


Mockingbird

by 2Lot



Category: Criminal Minds
Genre: AU, Amnesia, Angst, Death, M/M, Prison, Slash, UnSub!Hotch, Violence, silence of the lambs
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2012-11-09
Updated: 2013-11-24
Packaged: 2017-11-18 07:55:46
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 28
Words: 45,298
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/558634
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/2Lot/pseuds/2Lot
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>So you know Silence of the Lambs, right? This is not a crossover but a similar story with the CM characters. Reid is sent to interview serial killer Aaron Hotchner in prison because he will not be interviewed by anyone else. They form a bond and eventually he will escape. Warnings: Slight AU, Hotch as UnSub, dark, might be slash later on.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Mockingbird

Silence of the Lambs style. Reid is sent to interview serial killer Aaron Hotchner in prison. Warnings: Hotch as UnSub, dark, might be slash later on.

Intro: So this has been ghosting around in my head ever since I read this amazing story called Hunter by Dameange. It's on LJ, you should totally check it out if you haven't come across it yet, it's one of the best if ever read for the pairing.

This is not a crossover with Silence of the Lambs, I'm just stealing the story line of that movie and of its sequel Hannibal.

This is the general idea: Hotch is kinda like Dr. Lecter, locked away since he snapped and went on a killing spree after Foyet. He worked for the BAU before but they helped lock him up, the team is chasing Frank Breitkopf but they can't get a lead on him.

Reid has been on medical leave for about one and a half years after a case gone horribly wrong and Frank is his first case back with the old team.

You'll see the connection once you've read a couple of chapters but if you've seen the movie it should be pretty clear where this is headed anyways.

Warnings: Angst, violence, probably death too, story bordering on crack, canon time line messed up as usual. May include slash later on. Hotch is the UnSub here and therefore all kinds of OOC. He's a killer and he isn't too fond of his old team. Just so I don't get any complaints later on.

xxx

Friday, September 23rd 11:43 AM

Psychiatrist Dr. Charlene Halley sat in her office, a note pad in her hands as she took in her current patient with a skeptical expression. The young man sitting across from her looked old beyond his years, be it because of his poor choice of clothing emphasizing his thinness or the deep dark circles underneath his eyes.

"And how often do you have the dream these days, Dr. Reid?" she asked casually, trying to ignore the distress displayed by his fluttering hands and tense posture.

Dr. Spencer Reid kept looking at his lap in silence for a couple of seconds, the only indication that he was very much affected by her question the bony fingers coming up to unconsciously clutch the fabric covering his stomach.

Dr. Halley frowned as her eyes followed the motion. He had once told her he thought he could still feel the stab wounds that had been left there almost two years ago.

"Every night," Reid told her quietly and she nodded, unsurprised.

Given her profession she knew all too well that the wounds of the mind left scars much worse than those of the body, too deep to be effectively healed from the outside.

"Have you tried writing down some more details like I asked?" she required to know, "Working through the traumatic event is the first step on the road to recovery. Your mind is trying to protect itself by blocking it out while you're awake, but at night—"

"I am familiar with the symptoms of retrograde amnesia, Doctor," the young man cut her off rather abruptly, curling into himself instinctively in contrast to his offended tone.

As always he wasn't keen on being lectured. Just like he wasn't keen on being reminded of his past.

"I've studied psychology, too, you know?" he added after a moment, a bit more softly, exhaustion showing through, "I don't need you to tell me what's wrong with me."

Dr. Halley sighed, used to the occasional mood swing after weeks of working with him. "I didn't mean to upset you. I was merely suggesting—"

But Reid didn't let her finish, looking more exasperated than ever when he leaned forward, fixating her intently.

"Look, Doctor, it's been over a month since I've woken up from my coma," he said impatiently, "The only memories that are missing are those of the events and people linked to the assault, and we both know that those can't be forced out of the brain. I'm sure it will come back to me over time, but I need to finally get a life away from this hospital again. Could you please just clear me, so I can go back to my job?"

They measured each other up for almost a minute, she worried and doubtful, he so eager it almost seemed desperate.

After a moment, Dr. Halley sighed in defeat, "There is the condition of a certain number of follow up checks of course, and your superior has to clear you as well."

She could almost see Reid sagging in relief at her concession, his first success after almost two weeks of arguing with her unsuccessfully about his condition.

"He already has. May I go now?"

Dr. Halley sighed inaudibly. He seemed a little too enthusiastic to get back to work for her taste, but then, some people just lived for their jobs.

"Certainly," she nodded, standing up to shake his hand, "Good luck, Dr. Reid. Don't forget to make an appointment with my secretary on the way out."

She watched him leave the office in silence hurriedly, worry etched into her creased face. The FBI transferred most of their employees in need of psychological evaluation to her, but Spencer Reid´s was an especially gruesome case.

She had read about it in the newspaper first just like everybody else.

Twenty four year old agent fallen prey to one of the most vicious serial killers the state had seen in years, attacked and stabbed numerous times in a vain attempt to save another agent's family from The Reaper.

With the trauma and blood loss, she'd been told, it was a miracle he had woken back up at all after all this time. The memory loss was to be expected after what he´d suffered through, the brain taking its own time to deal with the experience. Who knew in what condition he might be if it weren't for that protective mechanism?

The fact that he seemed so careless about his repressed memories was somewhat worrisome, but frequent nightmares were really no reason to keep an otherwise healthy agent from doing his job again.

Dr. Halley sighed deeply as she made her way back over to her desk, readying herself for her next patient.

It was honorable of the young agent to want to go back to his old job so quickly, but she doubted it was a very good idea. He might think he could handle it, but who knew how the constant sight of bloody murder scenes or the interaction with a team scarred by the loss of two members would affect him?

She only hoped that he wouldn´t be sitting in her office again next week, forced to start from scratch all over.

xxx

Not the power to remember, but its very opposite, the power to forget, is a necessary condition for our existence.

-Sholem Asch


	2. Chapter 2

Monday, September, 26th 8:23 AM

"Spencer."

Reid couldn't quite keep from tensing when Gideon hugged him tightly; he hoped that his mentor wouldn't notice.

He had never much liked physical contact, and the knowledge –however distant and blurry the memory might be- that the last person who had really touched him had stabbed him with a hunting knife seven times wasn't exactly helping with that.

He took a deep breath, trying to shake off the dark thoughts as he let Gideon usher him into his office at the BAU. Today was his first day back on the job, the start of a new life.

"It's good to have you back, Spencer," Gideon smiled, motioning for him to sit, "You look well."

Reid did as he was asked without replying, knowing full well that he must look like hell. Anything else would be surprising considering he hadn't slept more than three hours in a row since he´d left the hospital and practically lived on coffee.

But just like Morgan and Garcia, whom he had met in the bull pen not ten minutes ago, the old profiler looked genuinely happy to see him back, so he decided to play along for his sake.

Gideon had something drawn about his ashen features that made him look much older than he actually was, like he too wasn't sleeping too well either.

Reid couldn´t help but wonder whether it was due to everything that had happened with Foyet and then being forced to operate with a team that was missing two agents afterwards, or if it was caused by a current case.

"Have you seen JJ yet?" Gideon asked pleasantly, though never quite managing to ban the haunted look from his eyes, "She's been talking about you ever since you woke up."

Reid smiled at that, sure that it looked a bit forced, "Not yet, no."

Truth was, he had been on the team for a fairly short time before the Foyet case and his memories of his team members were by far not as good as the others suggested they should be.

It wasn't like he hadn't tried to remember more details about them, but everything that came too close to the incident seemed to simply be blocked from his memory.

He remembered their media liaison as a friendly, motherly blonde who always had a smile and a comforting word for him. Technical assistant Penelope Garcia had seemed familiar enough, her bubbly chatter and odd terms of endearment making both him and Morgan chuckle in union as they all stood in the bull pen.

It had felt pleasantly like coming home, even if he had no clear recollection of when Morgan might have started to treat him like a little brother. Maybe he never had and the sudden affection was merely born out of almost losing him.

Reid smiled absently. Not that he minded all their friendliness in general- it just meant more awkward hugs.

He became aware of Gideon watching him intently, dark eyes thoughtful in their deep hollows, and realized was probably expected to keep up a conversation here.

He sat up straight, trying to pull himself together. This wasn't like the hospital, he couldn´t keep spacing out.

"How long has Morgan been unit chief?" he asked Gideon, trying to sound interested. He couldn't help but think that Gideon was analyzing him even now that he'd been cleared.

"For about one and a half years," Gideon answered, a shadow passing over his face, "I tried replacing Hotch at first, but it wasn't for me."

He fell silent and Reid knew he was thinking of Aaron Hotchner, the second team member they had lost along with Reid that night. Hotchner, or Hotch, had been his boss back then but he was also the one person on the team he remembered the least.

Dr. Halley had told him it was likely because Hotchner was so closely connected to everything concerning Foyet and the fact that he had been there the night Reid had almost died.

He remembered virtually nothing about that night. Gideon had let him read the case file a couple of weeks ago when Dr. Halley had suggested it might help in regaining his memory. It hadn't.

From what he'd gathered, the team had been chasing a serial killer called The Reaper who had for some reason become obsessed with Hotchner and his family.

One night, he had attacked Jack and Hayley Hotchner in their home, waiting for Hotchner to come home so he could kill them in front of him. Reid didn't remember their faces, had only briefly glanced at their autopsy reports. The boy had been only five.

The report further said that Foyet had called Hotchner and the whole team had raced to save his family. Hotchner had arrived first, seconded by Reid.

Then, the situation must have escalated. The result was three dead people, one in a coma and one lost to sanity, covered in blood and cowering over the mangled corpse of the man who had killed his family.

Reid shuddered at the mere thought, even if he had only ever heard the story told to him. Maybe he should be glad he had no memories of that night.

"What case are you currently working on?" Reid asked, intent on getting both of their minds away from the horrid past.

Instead of the relief he had expected, Gideon's expression seemed to darken even more, confirming Reid's suspicion that this case wasn't a good one so far.

"We were put on the case only three days ago. We already had the briefing so I'm going to fill you in." Gideon opened the file in front of him, turning it around for Reid to look at. It held numerous pictures, all of them gruesome.

Reid felt his stomach turn at the sight of the cut off body parts and swallowed hard, trying to remain distanced and professional. It wasn't as easy as he remembered, probably because he had been in the victims' position, too, now.

Gideon watched him carefully, but after a moment he seemed to decide Reid was doing well enough for his first day back.

"We think we may have made out a serial killer who has been operating for years without being detected," he explained, "The remains of one victim´s ribcage have been found in the Desert Rose Nation Park on Tuesday. Ten years ago similar remains were found in almost the same area. At first we thought it might be coincidence but the M.O. is the same."

Reid gulped as he skimmed through the reports before him, "One rib bone removed, arteries cauterized to check the blow flow. They were alive when the UbSub cut off their limbs."

Gideon nodded, grimacing, "Yes."

He pointed towards a whole stack of files on his desk, "We dug deeper and found more remains around that area, remains that belong to seven different people total so far. It looks like the UnSub comes back there every once in a while to kill again. The area is mostly desert but it is close to a Highway so they are looking into the cities close by or now."p>

He then pointed to the picture of a young woman in the file Reid was holding, "38 year old Terry Montgomery. She was reported missing three days ago. They found her body this morning in Fernley, Nevada. Not the same area but the same M.O. Press is all over it."

"It figures. If what you found all adds up, it's probably the same guy. Which means he may have more than those two dumpsites. My God, there could be God knows how many vicitms that have never been found in that desert." Reid gulped, paling as he took in all that information.

This was horrific, enough to shake up even the toughest of investigators. But it was familiar terrain. He could do this.

"So what's the plan?" he asked.

Gideon shrugged, shaking his head, "We don't have one I'm afraid. We don't know the UnSub's schedule, where he'll be or how long it will be until his next kill, plus, with the rising coyote population we only have a limited amount of time to find potential fresh remains. This guy is good. There is a reason he was able to stay invisible for so long. We only have a single promising lead: We believe that our UnSub has been writing letters to someone, describing the details of the murders to him."

Reid nodded interestedly, urging him to continue, "That might be a lead. Is it a family member? Or a partner in crime?"

Gideon shook his head, taking a moment before explaining, "No, it's an inmate at the United States Penitentiary, Lee here in Virginia. It´s maximum security. It is highly unlikely that they have ever met in person."

Reid looked at him in confusion, sure that there must be something Gideon wasn't telling him now, "So why would he be writing to a perfect stranger?"

"Because they are both serial killers, with similar M.O.s," Gideon offered, "Apparently, the letters read like fan mail."

"Alright, it's possible that there's something in those letters," Reid nodded, trying not to let the thought disturb him too much, "Have they been analyzed yet?"

Another shaking of head, more furrowed brows.

"Unfortunately, they have been destroyed by said inmate before we could get our hands on them. He is now the only person who has read them and he´s refusing to cooperate with us."

Gideon sighed heavily, rubbing his eyes like they were burning. When he looked up he looked deeply uncomfortable, like he would rather not have to say the next words that came out of his mouth, "Reid, I know this is a lot to ask for a first assignment, but Morgan decided…I mean, we thought you should to go talk to him, have another try at cracking him."

Reid could practically feel his mentor's reluctance. This case seemed to be really gnawing at him, for more than just the obvious reasons.

"Why me, sir?" he asked.

"You're the only agent we haven't sent yet, " Gideon explained, his mouth a tight line, "We are running out of options and people are dying out there."

There seemed to be more to it but Reid decided to agree for now, hoping to help his mentor with his troubles and take some of his work off his shoulders.

"Alright, I'll go talk to him. What's his name?"

Gideon didn't answer verbally, merely nodding tiredly. He produced another file, pushing it over the desk for him to pick up. Reid's eyes widened in stunned disbelief when he read the name on it.

Aaron Hotchner.

xxx

The past is never dead, it is not even past.

~William Faulkner

xxx


	3. Chapter 3

SSA Derek Morgan looked just as drawn and uncomfortable as Jason Gideon as he leaned against the latter's desk, giving Reid a grave look.

"I understand this must come as a shock to you, Reid," he said, "We simply couldn't think of a more subtle way to tell you."

Reid shook his head in disbelief, his eyes flickering between Morgan and Gideon.

He simply couldn't believe this. It was just too messed up. Aaron Hotchner, former member of this team, their colleague and likely their friend was supposed to be a dangerous serial killer?

"But…how?" he asked helplessly, searching for an explanation in their eyes.

Ever since Gideon had briefed him fifteen minutes ago, his head wouldn't stop spinning, overcharged with what he had learned. Calling Morgan into the room hadn't really helped so far. He could see in their faces how miserable the subject made them feel.

It was true that Reid didn't remember much about Aaron Hotchner, but if he had been a member of this team he must have been a good, honorable man. God, Reid had risked his own life to save him and his family. How could that same man now be a killer, an enemy?

Morgan grimaced as he took in his conflicted expression, "You knew Hotch hasn't been on the team for a long time. What you don't know is why."

"He was traumatized after his family's death and unfit to work in this unit any longer." Reid repeated the words Gideon had said to him only two weeks ago when he´d asked about his former boss.

"Well, yes," Gideon agreed, looking guilty for having lied to him, "that is true. He was forced to leave the unit and take early retirement after he repeatedly failed stress tests and psych evaluations. But he didn't exactly retire…The…damage caused by George Foyet was greater than anyone could have expected. One week after he got out of the hospital he killed his first victim. Seven more followed before we managed to catch him. He has been incarcerated ever since."

Both agents´ faces darkened at what Reid was sure were less than pleasant memories. He wrung his hands nervously, unbidden images of what might have happened invading his mind. How horrid, being forced to turn on a former confidant for his own good…

He couldn´t help but wonder though what exactly Hotchner had done to be locked up in a high security prison.

He made to open up Hotchner´s file which was still in his lap but was stopped by Gideon's hand over it. His mentor looked at him with a worried, almost pained expression.

"Reid, this involves you personally," he warned, "You don't have to deal with this if you don't feel ready, you don't have to go talk to him of all people. Nobody will think any less of you."

"Yeah," Morgan fell in, "I just thought that while he won't help any of us considering the role we played in his arrest, he might still feel a connection to you because…you know, you were both there that night."

"Maybe," Gideon threw in, "he won't immediately see you as his enemy. But it's just as possible that he will react badly, that you will trigger painful memories."

Reid couldn't help but notice the dirty look Gideon shot his unit chief, making it clear whose idea this had been. He could understand Morgan though. That tactic might work where nothing else had. If Hotchner was hostile towards anyone who had taken part in his arrest and Reid had been unconscious at that time…it might just work.

"It might be disturbing, triggering. Not just for him, but for you as well," Gideon kept on trying to talk him out of it now it seemed, ignoring Morgan's displeased expression, "he's not the man he used to be, so…"

"No. No, I'll try." Reid quickly conceded, intent on diverting Morgan's attention from Gideon's breaking the ranks, "I don't remember how he was before anyway. And I want to help. I was just shocked."

At his words, both his colleagues fell silent, looking relieved and regretful at the same time.

"Well, I doubt this is going to help make you more comfortable," Morgan said after a moment while Gideon pulled his hand off the file, "it's pretty gruesome."

Reid looked into the faces of his two coworkers, clearly seeing the shadows of scars this development must have left, still not healed after almost two years. Taking a deep breath, he flipped the folder open, immediately realizing that indeed he wasn't ready for what it contained.

It took him a moment to suppress the initial gag reflex at the pictures and autopsy report jumping out of him, a little much after being on leave for almost two years. This was particularly bad though, from what he could tell.

He skimmed through the reports, blanching even further, then picked up one of the victims´ photos with unsteady fingers, "He did that with a knife?"

"Some of it," Morgan grumbled, anger and disgust flashing over his face, "He wasn't picky about his choice of weapons. Some were shot, some bludgeoned, some sliced up…a good part of it he did with his bare hands."

Reid stared at the people on the pictures incredulously; they were barely recognizable. The mental image of this actually happening, of being attacked that way sent shivers of discomfort down his spine.

"But, this guy here…he ripped out the throat? How?"

The fact that they didn't answer was answer enough. Teeth marks at the edges of the wounds. Reid shuddered, putting the photograph back into the folder. They rarely had UnSubs with enough built up aggression to cause this much damage without weapons.

"Signs of anthropophagy?" he asked, swallowing past the lump in his throat.

"No," Morgan shook his head, "he never ate the flesh. He didn't keep trophies. We think it's just excessive built up aggressions that lead to this level of damage, the wish to hurt and scar as much as possible, to destroy people's lives in the way his was destroyed."

Reid stared at the file, reading words like PTSD and power assertive behavior and dissociative disorder. All of this made him very sure that he didn't want to remember an event so traumatic that it had pushed a man over the edge like this. It seemed he had lucked out by forgetting all about it.

He could feel Morgan's eyes on him, knowing that the man was waiting for an answer, but suddenly he wasn't so sure anymore that facing Aaron Hotchner was a good idea. What if it did bring back his memories, throwing him back? Until this morning he had thought it impossible to live with part of his past lost forever- but maybe he should just let the past be the past?

On the other hand he didn't see how anything was supposed to throw him back by much at this point. He was already an insomniac with the nerves of a shrew. Maybe seeing Hotchner, maybe even remembering some things would help him come to some sort of conclusion and let him rest again…

Before he could make up his mind, they were interrupted when the door to the office suddenly opened and a blond woman in a business suit walked in with urgent steps, "Morgan, we may have a witness—"

She broke off when she realized Morgan and Gideon weren't the only ones in the office, letting out what almost sounded like a squeak when she saw Reid. Before the young agent knew it he had his arms full of a very emotional JJ, pressing him to her chest with surprising strength.

"Oh, it's so good to see you well again, Spence." she smiled, wiping a tear out of the corner of her eye when she finally backed up a bit, "We've all missed you so much."

Reid blushed slightly, about to come up with a retort that hopefully wouldn't sound too awkward when he really caught sight of her face for the first time, gasping in shock.

\--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Cliffhanger^^

Please review?


	4. Chapter 4

Thank you for your interest so far! This chapter they leave to meet Aaron, they should be there by next time. Please review and tell me what you think :)

xxx

Reid blushed slightly, about to come up with a retort that hopefully wouldn't sound too awkward when he really caught sight of her face for the first time, gasping in shock. The right side of her pretty face was marred by a long, jagged scar, running from the corner of her mouth to her cheekbone.

A shadow briefly darkened JJ's bright blue eyes when she realized what he was reacting to and Morgan and Gideon shifted uneasily next to them.

"What happened?" Reid asked before he could stop himself, horrified to see her in this condition. He was sure she hadn't had that scar when he'd last seen her.

JJ grimaced, obviously trying to make a brave face and shrug of the memory, but she didn't quite succeed. "I went to visit Hotch in the psychiatric clinic a week after we had arrested him. He wasn't in lockdown yet. He…he was really angry at us, you know?"

"My God…" Reid whispered, more shocked by the second, "I'm so sorry, JJ."

"It's okay, Spence," JJ smiled at him, squeezing his shoulder, "It was two years ago and my life is better than ever. Will and I got married and Henry is almost four now. We're very proud of him."

"Oh," Reid finally managed to utter, trying to get over his shock and if it was just for her sake, "That's great, JJ."

She beamed at him, all traces of sadness gone as quickly as they had come.

"You really need to come visit us soon. Henry needs to spend some time with his godfather."

Henry. His godson. That, he did remember with surprising clarity.

"Yes, I'd be happy to." he heard himself say almost automatically only to have his shoulder squeezed again.

"Ok, it's a date."

Just then they were interrupted by Gideon clearing his throat uncomfortably, and JJ snapped back to attention, going back to business immediately, "Right, sorry guys. A man near Fernley has come forward. He claims to have seen Terry Montgomery being abducted."

Morgan nodded, grateful for the information and Reid couldn´t help but notice how good he was at seemingly not noticing his colleagues cut up face. It must have been a tough two years indeed.

"Alright, thanks JJ, were going to Nevada right now. Hopefully we'll get something useful this time. Reid do you want to come along or…"

Reid tensed, biting his lip. He could tell Morgan really needed someone to work on the fan mail. There probably weren't many people lining up for this assignment, at least not if they'd seen JJ after her encounter with Aaron Hotchner.

"No, I'll do the interview at the prison." he said before he could change his mind, pretending he couldn't see Gideon´s frown.

"Alright then," Morgan patted his shoulder appreciatively, "you can go tomorrow while the rest of the team works the current case."

xxxxx

That night he had the dream again.

He woke shaken up, soaked in sweat and with his heart racing like he'd just run a marathon. It took him almost an hour to calm down again as he sat in his stuffy, dark bedroom, trying to work past the horror lurking behind his eyelids.

He knew instinctively that it was the same one every night, even though he never remembered anything specific he could have written down for Dr. Halley upon waking up.

All he could remember were threatening dark shapes looming over him, enforcing the sensations of helplessness and panic. Time and time again, he tried to break free desperately but the darkness was holding him tightly, choking him, the faint echoes of screams and cries enough to shake him awake. The core of this always remained the same.

That night though, it was laced with reproductions of the crime scene photos he´d just seen, of bodies mangled and broken, of crying children and JJ´s disfigured face.

By the time sleep finally overcame him, the sky outside was already beginning to grey and all too soon his alarm clock let him know in no unspecific terms that this night was over for sure.

Reid dragged himself out of bed, his body more heavy and exhausted than when he´d gone to sleep the night before, making him feel sick. For a moment he considered not going to work at all, but he already knew he would find no rest here anyways and that he couldn´t disappoint Morgan by chickening out of his assignment.

So he took a long, icy shower, trying to wake up properly.

Afterwards he stood in front of the mirror, eyes flickering over his own reflection, the bony arms and shoulders, the sharp cheek bones, almost too pronounced even covered as they were now by damp strands of unruly hair. Reid had to force himself to look into his own face for longer than ten seconds. He didn't look like an FBI agent, much less like someone who could intimidate a homicidal UnSub.

Another moment and he made himself look away and straighten up. The body is just a vessel for the mind, he thought, over and over until he started to believe himself.

Breakfast consisted of the essentials. He had just downed two cups of pitch black coffee and grabbed his case file and messenger bag when the door bell rang unexpectedly, causing him to flinch and almost spill his hot beverage.

Reid hurried over to the door, trying to calm his racing heart as he looked through the peephole. Outside stood Gideon.

Reid opened the door, looking at his old mentor in honest surprise.

"Gideon. I was just about to leave—"

The other man nodded, moving aside so Reid could leave the apartment, "I'm coming with you if you don't mind."

Reid hesitated a moment before stepping outside and locking his door carefully, unable to hide a frown as he stored away his keys in his messenger bag.

He didn't understand why Gideon was suddenly here instead of Nevada, picking him up. He was supposed to do the interview by himself. Did Gideon really think so little of his abilities that he thought he needed to come along and hold his hand?

His crestfallen expression must have been more obvious that he thought because Gideon patted his shoulder briefly as they walked towards the elevators. "I will still let you conduct the interview, don't worry. I'm just concerned because of this particular case…"

Reid didn't protest or ask any further as they climbed into Gideon's car and he drove off onto the highway. Gideon looked just upset enough that he could believe his behavior might not be rooted in a lack of confidence in him per se but in the fact that it was Aaron Hotchner they were going to see.

He almost found himself asking if Morgan knew of this change in plans but bit his cheek at the last moment. Unless he wanted to call Morgan personally and rat Gideon out right now there was nothing he could do to get the man to abandon his plan if he was concerned enough to set it into action, he knew that from experience.

Relenting, he leaned back in his seat, going through his case files again.

He picked up the picture of Aaron Hotchner that was in the file, showing him during his days back at the BAU. It was stapled to his mug shot.

Reid shuddered silently as he stared into the man's dark eyes, black like coals under furrowed brows. Just looking into them on a picture set him on edge for some reason, a sudden feeling of foreboding tingling at the base of his spine.

Maybe it was for the best that Gideon was coming along.

After all, he had no idea what to expect, or how what he would find might affect him. At best he might get the dreams to stop by facing his past. At worst, he would be back with Dr. Halley again.

xxx

One need not be a chamber to be haunted;

One need not be a house. 

The brain has corridors surpassing material place.

~Emily Dickinson


	5. Chapter 5

This time we meet Hotch :) 

Please review, people!

\--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

After a two hour car ride they found themselves standing in front of the massive grey prison walls of the Virginia State Penitentiary.

Reid felt his heart rate accelerating as he got out and stared up at the snipers and barbed wire.

This was it, he knew. The final test of whether he was ready to come back to the job. He hadn't lost any of his brain function along with his memory and he knew he could still be the brilliant profiler he used to be. If he could work up the guts that went along with the intellect.

"Sure you want to do this?" Gideon asked as they walked up to the gate, looking like all he really wanted was to grab Reid by the scruff of his neck and drag him back to the car.

Reid nodded for what felt like the fifth time. He didn't think he remembered Gideon being quite as overprotective before. Maybe it was the same as with Morgan.

Though he understood Gideon's ill feeling about the case in general: Not only was Hotchner extremely vicious when it came to killing but he used to be close to Gideon, to all of them. It had to be hard to treat him as an enemy. Just that was the reason Reid wasn't too worried about himself though.

He held no emotional connection to Aaron Hotchner, at least not one he could remember so however the man acted, whatever he said it shouldn't hit him as hard as it would have been the case with the rest of the team. Plus, Morgan had already assured him that no one really expected Hotchner to suddenly talk after all this time. He just had to go in there and do his best.

"If he reacts positively to you, try and play into that," Gideon said as they walked up to the entrance, "If he can be convinced that you're on his side he might open up to you."

"I know," was all Reid answered this time, "I´ve done this before, Gideon."

The warden greeted them politely when they entered his office, calling Gideon by his name but looking Reid up and down skeptically at the same time. Reid tried to ignore it as best as he could, trying to straighten up a bit.

Gideon introduced him, explaining that he would be the one conducting the interview that day. The man seemed surprised but didn't protest as he led him over to his desk.

"I'm sorry to delay you," the man told him as he switched on his computer, opening a video file, "but I am of the opinion that one cannot be prepared enough when dealing with these criminals here. Let me show you what happened to the last guy who approached Hotchner incautiously."

Again, Reid had to hide a frown; after all, he was a federal agent and very well capable of—his train of thought stopped abruptly as he took in the video. It seemed to show an interrogation room, with a dark-haired man sitting at the table in handcuffs. Hotchner.

Opposite of him, seemed to be some sort of interrogator, walking around him and the table. There was no sound, but none was needed.

The change happened so fast that he would have missed it had he blinked.

One second Hotchner was sitting there calmly and seemingly unemotional, then, for a fraction of a second, an expression that was nothing short of murderous rage crossed his features and the next moment the interrogator was on the ground, chain around his neck.

Reid felt his insides grow cold as he watched the man scream in obvious pain, watched Hotchner grab something from the floor that the man must have dropped. Then there was blood everywhere and more orderlies stormed into the room.

Just then, the warden turned off the video, grimacing.

"Due to this, we don't conduct interviews in a separate room anymore. I hope you'll understand. You can see him while he´s in his cell."

Reid gulped, not even bothering to protest. He suddenly didn't feel so confident anymore about this interview going well. Bars or no bars, deep down he was a blinker…

Now it was too late though, so he simply followed the warden as he lead them through the many secured areas of the prison, past bulletproof glass and thick walls towards the maximum security area. There he excused himself after introducing Reid to the main guard.

"You're familiar with his criminal history?" the guard asked almost reluctantly as they went through the security check and were asked to shed their weapon and anything sharp or pointy or metal they had on them.

Reid nodded, too tense to be annoyed anymore, and the guard nodded, opening the last security door.

"I'm going to lock back up after you. I'll know when you're done," he pointed at the security monitors on his desk, "He's in here for a reason, sir, the last guard who came too close to him is now missing an eye."

Reid gulped, silently wondering if that was the same guy from the video or yet another one. Boy, Gideon really hadn't been lying when he´d said he was worried.

"Under no circumstances go near the bars," the guard continued, "don't approach him, don't hand him anything except soft paper. If he attempts to pass you something do not accept it."

With that last warning, he opened the door and let Reid and Gideon step into the corridor, locking the door after them like he´d said. "It's the last cell at the very end, keep to the opposite wall."

Reid took a last deep breath, clutching his files to his chest and steadying his resolve before he walked towards the end of the narrow corridor alongside his mentor, fluorescent light illuminating the damp stone walls to his right.

He could hear the other inmates in the cells to his right hissing and whispering at him, hateful and lewd comments out of black hearts, but he kept his eyes straight forward until they were standing in front of the very last cell.

It was about the size of his bedroom at home, smooth stone walls framing it except for the side with massive metal bars. There was a small table with a couple of books and papers on it, opposite to a standard cot by the wall and the essentials.

By the wall, with his back to them, stood Aaron Hotchner, looking taller and broader than Reid would have imagined. He was wearing a plain prison outfit and looked to be about forty. He seemed surprisingly calm, if not indifferent. He didn't even turn around though he must have heard their steps.

Reid couldn't help but fidget slightly, nervously waiting to see if the man would even acknowledge their presence. When it didn't look like it, Gideon seemingly decided to make the first step.

"Good morning, Hotch. It's been a while," he said almost conversationally sounding like he´d said those same words many times before. Reid couldn´t help but wonder how frequently Gideon really came here, trying to talk to their former colleague.

Hotchner reacted by clicking his tongue, the fleeting tensing of the hands crossed behind his back the only indication that he was at all affected by Gideon's words.

"Not nearly long enough if you ask me, Jason," he replied coldly, his lips curling derisively as he kept his eyes on a drawing on the wall, "When are you going to stop wasting both of our time, I wonder?"

"We´re here because we would like to ask you some questions about the letters you received," Gideon explained neutrally as though he had by some miracle not picked up on the hostility he was met with.

"Would you now?" Hotchner scoffed, "And what makes you think I'll be any more inclined to help you today than I was the first six times you asked?"

"Maybe because I won't be the one doing the asking this time," Gideon replied lightly, only the slightest trace of a frown apparent on his face as he signed for Reid to take over.

His words finally seemed to be enough of an incentive for Hotchner to face him. He slowly turned to look at Gideon. Reid barely suppressed a shudder at the iciness held in the gaze directed at his mentor. Clearly it was a good thing they were separated by heavy iron bars.

He didn't know how it was possible but Hotchner looked even scarier in person. Not at all like someone who had once had a family, a normal life.

Mentally Reid already waved the idea of getting anywhere with this man goodbye but he knew he had to try anyways now that he had put so much into convincing Gideon to let him try.

"Mr. Hotchner," he began, hoping to sound calm and confident, "My name is Dr. Spencer Reid, I don't know if you remem–"

He abruptly broke of when Hotchner´s head snapped around at the sound of his voice, that unsettling dark gaze suddenly fixated on him and only him. Where his expression had been cold and emotionless only a second ago, that frightening mask was suddenly shattered by a look of utter shock as Hotchner stared at him.

So much for not recognizing him then.

xxx

"Sometimes it's the smallest decisions that can change your life forever." 

-Keri Russell


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter 6

Whatever Reid had expected to come of their visit, this wasn't it.

The second Aaron Hotchner looked at him, his expression changed from completely indifferent to utterly shocked. His black eyes widened as he turned, fixating him in what seemed like disbelief.

Reid felt the intensity of the gaze run through him like an electric current, utterly unprepared for the reaction it invoked in him. Out of nowhere, a feeling of nausea and panic suddenly made his stomach turn and his knees buckle.

Those eyes...

'No! Please! Oh God, no! Let him-'

He barely heard his own strangled gasp, barely felt the hand clasping his arm that had to be Gideon's, caught up in the onslaught of image fragments, emotions and sounds suddenly crashing over him, making him sway from the intensity.

He remembered those eyes, remembered he had been writhing in pain and horrified, fighting for his life the last time he'd looked into them. They had been burning with terror and hatred and agony-

"Spencer." A voice broke through the haze, through the screams echoing in his mind and he blinked harshly as he tried to determine which man had spoken over the sound of blood rushing through his ears.

"Spencer!" Gideon was right next to him, looking highly alarmed.

Hotchner had taken a step towards the cell bars, his expression slowly morphing into something other than shock, something much more familiar and frightening. Reid tore his eyes away from him before he could figure out what it was, trying to regain control, to breathe properly again even though it felt like he was choking on the feelings that had grasped him so unexpectedly and inconveniently.

Gideon's grip on his arm tightened, his voice sounding urgent, "Spencer, what's wrong?"

I dont know, he wanted to say, but the truth was he did. He was reacting to a memory, one that Hotchner's sight had triggered.

The little part inside him that wasn't occupied with panicking managed to scold him for letting himself go like this in front of their criminal. On the off chance that it didn't excite and encourage Hotchner, it would definitely not make him seem confident and competent.

"I'm fine," he managed after what felt like an eternity, straightening up, "I'm sorry-I-"

He tried to focus but all he could think of were Aaron Hotchner's eyes boring into him, ripping open scars deep inside him he hadn't known were there, making his palms sweat and his heart race like a rabbit's.

"Reid, outside." He felt Gideon pulling at his arm, and the notion that he had just screwed up the entire interview and greatly disappointed his team cemented itself. His heart sank as he gave into the older agent's urging, even though he felt relief at the prospect of getting out of there.

"No!" They both jumped at the shout, completely unprepared when Hotchner suddenly snapped out of his shocked state and into action.

In a flash, he was across the cell, one hand clutching the bars so tightly that the knuckles of his hands turned white, the other shooting out through the bars and grabbing hold of Reid's free arm in a death grip.

Before Reid knew it he found himself yanked forward with so much force it had him stumbling into the bars, the eyes that had caused all this in the first place suddenly only inches from his own.

Reid felt his heart leap into his throat, images of Hotchner attacking prior victims flashing across his mind, cold terror gripping him. Instinctively, he tried to wrench himself free but the grip on his wrist was relentless, the fingers around it like steel.

Dark, burning eyes locked with his wide, fearful ones, sending more shocks through Reid and eviscerating every last rational thought that wasn't flight, fear, pain, help-

"You-"

Hotchner leaned in, his brows furrowing and Reid took in a sharp breath, drawing back as much as possible, heart racing in the expectation that pain would set in at any second…

But Hotchner didn't make another move.

For mere seconds that felt like an eternity they stared at each other, sharing the same air, Reid petrified while Hotchner took in his terrified expression, his face slowly crunching up in response.

In the background, almost completely drowned out by the rushing of blood in his ears, Reid could make out Gideon shouting, unacknowledged.

The moment was over as abruptly as it had begun. One second, Hotchner opened his mouth as if to say something, the next Gideon suddenly jumped forward, delivering a well aimed blow of his fist to Hotchner's wrist and forcing him to release his grip.

Then he grabbed Reid and dragged him back towards the wall. Reid ended up curled around himself and panting heavily, Gideon holding him upright while the guards stormed into the hallway, making sure they weren't hurt.

"Get back!" one of them shouted at Hotchner, banging his stick against the bars and forcing him to retreat if he didn't want his fingers broken.

"Are you okay?" he asked them urgently but neither answered, Gideon's eyes flickering between Hotchner and Reid in alarm, and Reid still much too busy fighting his own body's stress response.

"Reid?" Gideon's fingers flexed around his arm, trying to pull him upright but Reid didn't move, keeping one hand wrapped around his torso and the other pressed to the side of his head, at the same time shielding himself from the other people with it.

He was still shaking all over, from the shock he'd just gotten as much as from the vivid flashback…he tried to regain control, to calm down somehow but he couldn't tear his eyes away from Hotchner whose stare was vivid now as he took in his reaction, his expression slowly turning into what could only be described as murderous.

"What did you do?"

Gideon tensed as he took in the prisoner's stance in the middle of his cell, his hands balled to fists by his sides, his expression one of dark, undiluted rage. His voice was cutting through the air like a knife, easily heard over the shuffling of feet and labored breaths surrounding them.

"WHAT did you DO?"


	7. Chapter 7

"WHAT did you DO?"

Reid cringed when Hotchner yelled yet again, as did everybody else in the room. The guards shifted around nervously, highly alarmed by their dangerous prisoners outburst.

Merely Gideon remained relatively collected, standing straight as he moved to shield his younger colleague.

"What did I do?" he frowned, glaring back at Hotchner before shaking his head, "This is your doing! This was a mistake, I should have known. Reid, are you okay? Answer me."

He grabbed the younger agent, all but shaking him in his worry. Reid stared between his boss and the prisoner, eyes flickering, face still pale as a sheet. "Flashback…" he managed to gasp out, "I…oh God, all that blood….please I can't-"

Gideon nodded gravely, "Come on, I'll get you out of here."

He pulled him up and towards the guards and the exit. One of the guards reached out to lead Reid out of the room. The young agent left after casting one haunted look over his shoulder.

Hotchner stared after him for a long moment, seemingly torn between rage, pain and confusion. When Reid was out of sight he turned to Gideon who was about to follow him out.

"Flashback?" he repeated.

Gideon stopped in mid-step, turning back to glare darkly at his former colleague, "What did you think this was? A performance we put on just for you? You will find this hard to believe but I don't spend my days and nights figuring out ways to spite you, Aaron."

He made to walk on but Hotchner called after him, "Wait! Damn it Jason, stop. What's wrong with him?"

"What do you think is wrong with him? He watched Foyet murder two people he knew, then almost died himself and finally had to watch you beat someone to death with your bare hands. That's bound to leave an impression."

"No…he wouldn't. he knew I had to…he understood…he wouldn't be afraid of me! You did something to turn him against me!" A flash of something that could only be interpreted as hatred crossed his features.

Gideon was quiet for a long moment, like he was contemplating something, then, almost strained, he nodded.

"You're right," he bit out, "It's amnesia, Hotch. I'm sure Reid would have gotten around to mentioning it if…He was in a coma for almost two years."

He paused but Hotch just stared at him unblinkingly. He already knew that part. The part about the amnesia was new to him. "When he woke up he couldn't remember anything related to the attack. Not Foyet, not Haley, or Jack, not you."

"And you didn't tell him?"

"What was I supposed to tell him, Hotch? Look at him! What is there to know that he isn't better off having forgotten?"

"That's not for you to decide!"

"It doesn't matter. Clearly this interview was a fundamentally bad idea for everybody involved. He won't be coming back here and if there's any of the man you sued to be left in you, you won't try to contact him. It may be too late for you, but he can still recover from this."

With that Gideon turned to leave, only to run straight into Reid in the doorway. Surprised, he caught the young man's arm as he attempted to go back into the corridor.

"Reid, what-?"

"I'm sorry," the young man was still pale as hell but he seemed to have calmed down from his attack, "I'm fine. I can do the interview I swear."

"No-" Gideon started but Reid had already pushed past him and moved back to stand across from Hotchner's cell who was staring at him with an unreadable expression.

xxx

Reid shivered as he faced Aaron Hotchner for the second time that day, still unable to stop his reaction from showing, or to get the pressure on his chest to let up. It didn't help when Hotchner stopped glaring daggers at Gideon to turn his attention back to him again.

His former boss watched him fidget, definitely aware of the confusion written all over Reid´s face by now. Then, for some reason the anger he was radiating started to fade and a beginning sense of realization brightened his eyes in understanding.

"You forgot," he said, and it didn't sound like a question, "Everything."

Reid's silence was answer enough.

Hotchner drew in a shuddering breath, hands clenching around the bars so tightly his knuckles turned white. For some reason he suddenly looked devastated, unadulterated pain flashing across his features as he shook his head in disbelief.

Reid bit his lip, suddenly feeling queasy at the sudden change in behavior he was witnessing. It seemed like he had actually wanted Reid to come see him, like him not remembering was painful to him for some reason.

Why would that be?

He resisted the urge to look to Gideon for an explanation. Instead he quickly cleared his throat.

"I—everything connected to that night is buried for now," he explained hesitantly, "The doctors don't know when or if it will resurface. Gideon filled me in on what happened though. I- I am very sorry about what happened to your family."

He flinched once more, heart skipping a beat when Hotchner's expression suddenly shifted at his last words, his face crunching up and his eyes turning hard, cold.

"How can you be? You don't even remember them…us. The only reason you're here is about the new case."

He said the last part almost as if to himself, eyes growing distant as he digested the information.

Reid shuddered at the intensity of the man's emotions, feeling his stomach twist in unease and something akin to guilt.

He really did not remember them. He shouldn't have used their memory to try and form a connection to Hotchner. It had just come naturally but clearly backfired -if there ever had been a window of opportunity for him, it was clearly closed now.

"I want you to get out, both of you," Hotchner suddenly growled from behind clenched teeth, speaking to both of them but only looking at Gideon now, almost as if he was refusing to look at Reid again, "Don't come back."

Reid flinched at his tone, feeling his stomach knot up once more. He hadn't felt this miserable even this morning.

This had all been for nothing. Clearly, Gideon had been banking on a certain kind of reaction to his appearance but that had definitely backfired. If anything he'd made everything worse by getting involved.

But then, what had he hoped? That there was some sort of connection because of their shared past that would make Hotchner open up to him? He should have known that being reminded of his wife and son would only make him aggressive or withdrawn.

Maybe if Reid had played into it more, been more authentic…but he hadn't been prepared for that. Now that slim chance was clearly gone seeing Hotchner's anger.

Gideon didn't say anything more. Apparently, even he was seeing how pointless this was now. He merely held Hotchner's gaze for a few more seconds, both of their stares intense, before turning away, gesturing for Reid to follow.

xxx

How little remains of the man I once was, save the memory of him! 

But remembering is only a new form of suffering.

-Charles Baudelaire


	8. Chapter 8

Reid slammed the door of the SUV shut behind him, not even trying to hide his upset state from his older colleague. They had left the prison in a hurry after Aaron Hotchner's awful reaction to their visit with no promise of coming back.

Reid still felt profoundly shaken up by what had happened, about his own reaction as well as Hotchenr's -but also because of Gideon.

"What was that in there?" he snapped before he could help himself, hating the way his fingers were unsteady as he fastened his seat belt.

"I told you he might react violently," the older man merely shrugged as he put the car into drive. He seemed disturbingly calm after what had just happened. There was adeep frown on his face but he wasn't nearly as freaked out as Reid thought he ought to be.

"Yes, but did you think to mention that it was more than just a theoretical assumption?" Reid asked sourly, "You weren't surprised at all. You expected this, didn't you? Why didn't you tell me he had been asking about me specifically? I could have prepared for that."

He knew that probably wasn't true, considering he had freaked out instantly instead of following any tactic, but he couldn't help but vent his anger. He wasn't actually sure what was upsetting him more at this point, Gideon's secrecy or the idea that Aaron Hotchner was in any way focused on him.

"I told you before," Gideon explained stoically, frowning slightly as he looked over at Reid, "Hotch sees everybody as his enemy. You are the only one who wasn't there to arrest him, plus you fought Foyet with him that night. The only one he didn't permanently curse during all of our past interviews was you."

His frown deepened as he said that and he looked like he had a bad taste in his mouth; Reid watched him silently, arms crossed over his chest.

"He was convinced you would have been on his side if you had been awake, that you would have supported him. I told you from the beginning it wasn't a good idea. You and Morgan insisted. Since you insisted on working this case I wanted to try and make him see you as a remaining ally. But your violent reaction to him made that kind of hard. What was that, Spencer?"

Reid swallowed hard, fingers clenching in the fabric of his jacket as he met Gideon's intent gaze.

"I—I think I had a flashback…of that night. I suddenly couldn't breathe…"

He hung his head in misery, surprised when Gideon merely sighed, unsurprised.

"That's exactly the sort of thing I was worried about," the older profiler frowned deeply, nodding to himself, "This was a bad idea from the beginning. I shouldn't have let you come here in the first place."

Reid clenched his hands in his lap as he looked out the window; the last thing he wanted to do was to have the blame for this pushed on to himself -but even he had to admit that Gideon had a point.

He had screwed up.

"Maybe that's for the best," Gideon said upon seeing his crestfallen reaction, "It might have been helpful for the case but I really wouldn't have felt comfortable with him getting fixated on you as he surely would have. You would have had to go back there repeatedly and play his friend only to get information."

Reid kept looking out the window in silence.

He had been about to say that it wouldn't really matter if Hotchner were to become fixated on him since he would stay behind bars for the rest of his life -but then he thought about going back there and facing him again. Feeling like that again. Using the man's pain and his dead family against him and his stomach turned.

Maybe it really was for the best this hadn't worked out.

They drove in silence for a long while, both deep in thought.

In order to push away all thoughts about his memories and terrifying dreams, Reid instead thought about the devastated expression on Hotchner's face when he realized that Reid wasn't there for moral support but because of his job. If he had really been convinced all this time that he was the only thing close to a friend he had left, it must have been a punch in the gut to realize he was indeed completely alone.

He shook his head, trying to focus on something else before he got too caught up in the whole mess. Yes, Hotchner´s story was a tragic one and he did feel for him even if he didn't remember Hayley and Jack.

But he was also a ruthless killer, someone who had caused just as much suffering to other people and their families. There were other people more deserving of Reid's empathy that was for sure.

"So what are we going to tell Morgan?" he inquired after a while, "He's going to be disappointed, right?"

Gideon just shrugged, "I don't think he expected much to begin with. He was intrigued with the possibility that you might get through to Hotch but he won't be surprised to hear he blocked us out completely. He has been doing nothing but that for the past year and a half."

"I guess we'll have to find another lead then. I doubt Hotchner is going to talk about the letters to anyone after this mess."

Gideon nodded absentmindedly. Then he turned his head and shot him an odd look, "What did you remember when he looked at you?"

Reid hesitated, picking at his pants nervously, "Nothing specific…it was more like a gut feeling of terror…I'm starting to think it might be for the best I don't remember that night."

Gideon regarded him for a long moment, then he turned back to the road in front of him, crease lines deep on his forehead, "I think you might be right."

It turned out Gideon had been right.

Morgan didn't even bat an eyelash when they told him about how little success they had had with the letters. He merely patted Reid on the shoulder encouragingly and went on to tell them about the new developments in the case.

Apparently the rest of the team hadn't been much more successful either. The witness had turned out to be of little use as she had been rather intoxicated the night of the crime and barely remembered anything at all. They couldn't even be sure it was Terry Montgomery she had seen.

Apart from that, they were back to square one. Evaluating the little reports they had left them with a profile resembling Swiss cheese. The only thing they were sure about was that there would be more bodies and soon. It wasn't the brightest outlook.

Reid did his best to contribute to the team's efforts but even that didn't help much. Even though he knew it wasn't really a lack of his abilities, he felt himself growing discouraged and frustrated rapidly.

When it was time for his weekly check up with Dr. Halley he didn't tell her that he finally remembered more about his dreams.

They had become increasingly vivid in the past days, likely triggered by his encounter with one Aaron Hotchner. The crimson was brighter now, the screams louder, piercing his ear drums. And he could make out people for the first time.

The little boy from the photo, Jack, staring at something behind them with huge scared eyes while his mother clutched him tightly even as blood streamed down her arms and body. She was crying, screaming as she reached out for him. It was never until the last second that he understood what it was she was yelling at him, "Behind you!"

Always -even though he knew well it would happen after the first night- he moved much too late, his body feeling like lead as he fumbled for a gun that wasn't there. Spinning around he found himself face to face with Aaron Hotchner, towering over him and covered in blood. Panic took overhand then and he tried to turn around and run, to fight the man off as he reached for him with dead eyes, but he simply couldn't move, petrified as Hotchner's hands closed around his throat in an unforgiving grip, black eyes that were crying crimson tears staring right into his soul. "You're never going to get away."

He always woke from the sound of his own screaming, coughing uncontrollably as he clutched his throat, feeling like there were hands wrapped around it still, asphyxiating him.

The others must have picked up on his condition even if he refused to talk about it. They called him regularly after work, at least two of them each evening.

Morgan and JJ mostly, usually when they hadn't succeeded in getting him to go out with them a couple of hours earlier. Gideon every couple of days, being a little more inconspicuous about it by pretending he wanted to talk about some suspect or witness.

Reid let them all off with the reassurance that he was doing fine, that he just needed a little time to himself to readjust in his own home.

The truth was he didn't feel at home anymore. He wasn't sure if he ever had of course, but the small, empty apartment was only weighing him down, making him feel how lost he really as all the more.

He was falling apart. Not eating, barely sleeping. It was like there was a void, a hole in his life that hadn't been there before his coma. He tried not to dwell on it, incredibly disturbed to be missing something he didn't even remember.

He figured it was his mother. The first letter was difficult, after all she hadn't heard from him in almost two years. He chose the words carefully, trying to only tell her positive aspects of his work and recovery. When the first answering letter arrived he did feel marginally better and decided that he should definitely visit Diana the next vacation he got.

Maybe, he thought on his better days, maybe he was just expecting too much too quickly. He of all people should know about the after effects of trauma after all. Just because his conscious mind didn't remember it didn't mean it wasn't still there, affecting him. It would take time for him to feel balanced again.

Time and maybe a little help.

When the third corpse since his visit at the prison showed up in pieces in the desert they didn't even fly out there anymore, simply awaited the autopsy reports. There were still no witnesses. No profile. Their UnSub was indeed a pro at what he was doing.

The case was visibly starting to get to them all. Rationally, they knew that the UnSub probably didn't even know they were on to him, but it still felt like he was taunting them.

Reid wasn't sure how long he had been staring at the pictures of the latest victim on their pin board that day when a heavy hand on his shoulder pulled him away with gentle determination.

"Time to go home, pretty boy," Morgan urged him with a smile, jerking his head in the direction of the exit. JJ was waiting there, holding the door open for them.

"But-" Reid protested, already knowing what they were planning but unwilling to have an evening out when there were people out there dying.

"No buts," Morgan cut him off, already ushering him towards the doors, "not this time, kid. There's nothing more we can do right now. We´ll look at it with fresh eyes tomorrow."

Reid relented although reluctantly, letting JJ link her arm with his as they left the building and headed towards the parking lot. "We´re just going to have dinner at my place, Spence, nothing big. You can play with Henry if you don't want to talk to us but you have to take a break."

He opened his mouth to tell her he was fine but it was already clear in her eyes that she wouldn´t have any of it.

With a sigh he gave in. Maybe they were right, maybe a little time spent with his godson would help him relax and get his mind off of the gruesome pictures burned into his eidetic memory.

Morgan laughed when he sensed his concession, ruffling his hair, "That's the spirit."

The evening turned out surprisingly enjoyable. They had a homemade dinner prepared by Will and some pleasant not work related conversations. Afterwards, Morgan and Will retreated into the living room, joking and laughing as they sat down to watch a game on TV.

Reid couldn't help but smile a bit at their bickering over which team would win, picking up Henry in his arms to play with him in his room while JJ was in the bathroom picking pieces of carrot out of her hair and clothes.

"I made Mommy look funny!" the child beamed as he pulled Reid to the floor by his hand. He had taken surprisingly well to Reid being back in his life.

"You sure did, Henry," Reid smirked, unable to help himself as he remembered his friend getting a spoonful of dinner thrown into her face unexpectedly, "But you know it's not nice to throw food at people."

"But it made you smile, Uncle Spencer." Henry said with wide eyes, like that explained everything. Then he smiled widely, hugging Reid tightly.

Reid gulped as he hugged the child back carefully, uneasy when he realized even a four year old child had picked up on his bad condition. It must have been really blatant to the team then, if they had decided to kidnap him.

He sighed as he watched Henry play with his toys. Maybe it was time he did pull himself together already.

After playing with Henry for a while he went into the kitchen to see JJ busy cleaning the dishes from their meal. He picked up a dish towel and she handed him one of the clean plates with a grateful smile.

They worked in comfortable silence for a few minutes, then JJ turned to look at him inquiringly, "How are you doing, Spence? I mean, really."

Creases of worry were etched into her usually smooth face and he couldn't help but feel a little guilty over making her feel that way.

"I'm struggling," he admitted eventually, "but it's getting better."

It really was. At least he thought so at the moment.

This evening had helped make him feel much better. He didn't feel quite as restless and empty anymore, warmed by the loving atmosphere in JJ's house.

"I might have to come by more often though before I'm all good." he winked jokingly and she smiled in happy relief, "You know you're welcome anytime. We all love to have you."

"Thanks, JJ."

She patted his cheek with wet fingers, returning his grin.

There was another moment of silence then she opened her mouth again and he could tell she was about to ask something more serious. Just then though his work phone rang, interrupting them effectively.

Reid pulled it out of his pocket, frowning slightly when he didn't recognize the number. It couldn´t be case related since JJ was standing right next to him but who else would call him on this phone?

He gestured to JJ, excusing himself before he went out into the hallway, taking the call.

"Special Agent Dr. Spencer Reid."

"Ah, Dr. Reid, how good I could reach you at this hour," a man answered at the other end, "I apologize for the inconvenience but it is very important."

Reid frowned as he listened to the man talk. He didn't recognize the voice as a familiar one.

"Who is this, please?" he asked.

"Oh, of course, I'm sorry," the man apologized immediately, sounding a bit flustered, "I'm Warden Nicolas Simmons. We met last week at the Lee State Penitentiary? I'm calling because of Aaron Hotchner."

Just as he had been about to relax, Reid felt himself freeze internally at the name, his fingers clenching around his phone as his brain went into overdrive. He immediately forgot all questions of how the Warden had even gotten his number and why it was him he was calling instead of Morgan.

"Has something happened?" he asked, apprehension coloring his voice as his mind made up the worst case scenarios of more dead guards or a break out even automatically.

"Not exactly, sir. He is requesting to see you."

xxx

Hope you liked it! Please Review!


	9. Chapter 9

'He said to schedule for another interview if you still need assistance with your case. And to leave Agent Gideon out of it this time if you want to get anything out of him.'

The prison warden's message stayed constantly present on Reid's mind for the following three days.

He had been utterly surprised to receive Aaron Hotchner's message that night at JJ's house, so shocked even that he'd had to excuse himself early from their gathering. Morgan had driven him home with a concerned expression on his face, again asking if everything was alright before reluctantly letting him climb up to his apartment by himself.

He had been tempted to tell Morgan about the call, to tell anyone.

He had no idea what motive Aaron Hotchner might have for suddenly asking him back to the prison after practically kicking them out the last time. It made sense for him to not want to see any of the team there, especially Gideon –but Reid had been sure he wouldn't want to see him again either after feeling betrayed by him forgetting everything.

For three days and nights he fought with himself.

Fact was they needed all the information they could get. Fact was also that he'd rather not come within ten feet of that man ever again. The mere thought of going back there and being subjected to that stare again sent cold shivers down his spine every time.

It wasn't until their UnSub killed his next victim and they flew out to gather the pieces of a mother of two, not until he and Emily were forced to inform her husband and little children of her murder and of their incapability to catch the killer that he made his decision.

He had to go back. It might be uncomfortable, but Hotchner would be behind bars after all. He could take being stared or yelled at for an hour if it helped save the next innocent person.

He didn't tell anyone, merely made use of half a day off to drive up to the prison once more. The warden eyed him almost pitifully this time.

"How did you make him change his mind?" he asked.

All Reid could do was shrug, "I have no idea."

"Is Agent Gideon or your unit chief informed about this?" the older man asked as he escorted him to the cells once more, looking slightly troubled.

"Of course," Reid lied, trying to look confident, "There's no need for you to report back to Agent Gideon anymore either. Just call me from now on."

He didn't know why he said that. Maybe because he had the certain feeling that if Gideon knew about this he would make Morgan pull him off the case for good this time, no matter the resistance he got. Maybe because he wanted to finally accomplish something by himself, to finally feel like an asset to the team again, to prove he wasn't just a nervous kid with PTSD that needed to be supervised.

He entered the long, sparsely lit hallway with the cells on the left with a growing feeling of unease, clutching the case file tightly to him with nervous fingers. Before Hotchner's cell came in sight he forced himself to take a deep breath and straighten up.

He could do this. Get the information he needed with whatever tactic might work, then get out of here as quickly as possible.

Aaron Hotchner was facing the hallway when he came to a halt in front of his cell. He looked much like the last time he'd been here, though he seemed considerably calmer.

Reid eyed him warily for a couple of seconds, looking for any sign that Hotchner might lose his temper again at his sight -or that another flashback was about to hit him. Neither happened though.

The convict met his gaze for a long moment, brown eyes assessing him, taking in his face and frame. Reid swallowed nervously. He wasn't sure what he had been expecting to happen, but now Hotchner somehow seemed too quiet...so different from last time. He was, however, still staring at him in the same creepy, disturbing way. Moments passed in which Reid went over his decision to come back about five times -then Hotchner spoke up.

"I was beginning to think you were too busy to come back." It was hard to tell whether his tone was spiteful or plain casual, whether he was pleased or not with the situation.

His eyes were much the same, seemingly neutral, but clearly covering deeper underlying emotions as they fixated him. It was unnverving but Reid tried his best not to let it bother him. As long as there was hope that this might be a useful visit he wouldn't just walk away.

"We were in Nevada," he replied shortly.

It seemed like a good lead in if they were going to talk about the case. If...

Luckily, Hotchner seemed to bite, foregoing any mentions of last time to react to his words.

"More bodies?" The question sounded indifferent, casual. Reid nodded.

It looked like Hotchner frowned at that but Reid couldn't help the thought that it was more due to his silence than to the mention of dead people.

Great, one more point on the creepy psycho scale...

God, he just wanted to get out of here. That scrutinizing stare on him was making him want to run from the room. 'Get a grip. He's talking, that's good.' 

"So have you made any progress on your profile yet? Any new leads?"

Reid did his best to cover up his excitement that apparently Hotchner actually wanted to talk about the case. Still he hesitated as he considered his possible answers. He couldn't give away detailed information but he wanted to keep Hotchner talking.

"We have witnesses," he replied vaguely.

Hotchner smirked at that, "In other words you have nothing. You won't remember this, Spencer, but I used to be a very proficient profiler. There is no gain in trying to lie to me."

He leaned forward, his forearms resting on the bars of his cell and Reid couldn't help but tense at the sound of his given name coming from the man's mouth. He didn't think Hotchner had called him Spencer before Foyet. Gideon's warning about him becoming fixated on him briefly crossed his mind again, especially considering the look he was giving him right now, but he pushed it away forcibly by making himself picture their last victim.

It didn't matter unless he let it, he told himself. It didn't even matter why Hotchner had decided to ask him back and talk to him. No matter how wrong or disturbing the reason...People were getting hurt out there and he was going to let it continue because he was too creeped out by a guy who was locked up and unable to do aynthing to him? No, of course not. 'Get over it, name's just a name...'

"You're right," he made himself play along, "We're far from solving this case. The UnSub is always three steps ahead of us. He is a master at flying under the radar, otherwise he wouldn't have gone undetected for so long. The kills are gruesome but he can control his urges and won't leave unnecessary traces."

So far so good, a pretty decent lead-in. Hotchner looked at him with what he hoped was waking interest in the case, nodding knowingly.

"And that's why your only hope are the letters," he mused before one of the corners of his mouth pulled upwards, "In other words, me." He smiled darkly, his eyes gleaming, "Don't you think that's wonderfully ironic? That I am the one person able to help the BAU now?"

Reid didn't return his smile. This turn in the conversation...he didn't want to be discouraged but it reminded him that it was very well possible that Hotchner wasn't actually going to answer his questions but that he had just called him here to taunt him and the team.

"If you detest them so much then why did you decide to help them after all?" he asked, hands clenched to fists by his sides to hide his anxiety.

Hotchner raised an eyebrow at his question, tilting his head to the side slightly. Then he shook it.

"I never said I wanted to help them."

Reid felt his heart sink, disappointment overcoming him. It looked like he had been too hopeful after all.

"Why did you ask me here then?" he asked.

Hotchner didn't answer at first; another long minute of silent staring passed before he reacted at all.

"What do you remember about me, Spencer?" he then asked out of context.

Reid blinked in surprise, then again in irritation.

He didnt know why he even answered, why he didn't just walk away then, knowing he should. Something in those eyes...

"I—you were my boss, unit chief of the BAU. You had a wife and a four year old son. We worked together until George Foyet started stalking you. One night he attacked you and your family and I fell into a coma after trying to help."

"Not what you read in the reports," Hotchner shook his head, interrupting him, "What do you remember?"

His tone was as sharp as his eyes, and Reid swallowed, nervously looking away. Nothing, he remembered nothing. Why did that even matter? He didn't want to-

"Memory fragments, I assume," Hotchner's voice came through to him, and Reid flinched, failing to stay unaffected by the images creeping up on him, "Sounds? Voices? What you felt during the attack maybe...do you remember my son, his dead eyes looking up at you as he was on top of you, twisting the knife-"

"Stop-" Reid shook his head, blinking harshly, trying to not focus on the faint echo of screams from his dreams, fighting to stay focused. He stumbled back, horrified at what the other man was saying. He didn't remember...but it felt like his body did...- his breath stuttered...no, not again-

"Spencer." Deep voice, intent, breaking through his chaotic thoughts and emotions, getting him back into focus. His eyes snapped up, finding Hotchner's pinned to him again, still with that burning intensity but not...gleeful. Pained, maybe, under all that steel...

"Why are you doing this?" he balled his shaking hands to fists, not knowing what he should feel. Fear, anger, pity...? "What do you want?"

Hotchner just kept looking at him, for a sheer eternity. Then, eventually, "It's not your fault."

Now completely thrown off track, Reid could only blink in confusion. How did this conversation keep getting...?

"What?"

"Foyet. Jack. Hayley."

How were they suddenly talking about the Foyet case? What was Hotchner saying?

"It's not. Maybe if you start believing that you will stop being so effected by it."

"I don't think it's my-"

"You might not know it but I...I know you," Hotchner murmured as though to himself. Then he touched his face, actually chuckling. it didnt sound right though. It sounded fractured, tainted. "I do...I should never have doubted that for a second. I was just...when Gideon brought you here and you didn't, I thought- but it's you. After everything you did for Jack, and Hayley, for us...you would never..."

His expression turned stromy and borderline homicidal so quickly that Reid felt his stomach turn. "Everybody else has abandoned me, betrayed me. In the worst hours of my life they turned me, locked me in here to rot. But not you. No."

The idea of a smile flashed over Hotchner's lips before it was replaced by more darkness.

"You don't remember," he shook his head somberly, "I knew it last time, by the way you reacted, looked at me...there was nothing in your eyes. You don't remember me at all."

Reid didn't reply. He was sure he saw pain there in those black depths, pain invoked by the reality of his words... he didn't know what to say or do at this point. His insides were coiled formt he memories Hotchner was invoking in him, his hands sweaty, his ehad spinning from what the man was saying...

"That's why I can't even be angry, you know?" Hotchner smiled bitterly, and edge still to his expression. Reid blinked, tense and mute. "I was. Very angry." Reid swallowed hard. "But now I understand. You're only here for the case, but it's not your fault either. It's who you are. You need to help the victims in your case. You lost your memory but you're still the same deep down."

"That's why I let you come back, Spencer. You're still the same."

Reid couldn't say anything, feeling his guts twist up even further. Hotchner sounded crazy, but not really...he could follow his train of thought -and that scared him even more. The man thought Reid was his friend, his ally. His only one after the betrayal of the others. That was why he had wanted to see him again.

Guilt and fear were warring inside him by now. Fear because this man was insane and much too focussed on him, guilt because he was actually considering Gideon's idea of letting him think he was his ally in order to get information. If it was the only way...

"I know you don't think so now, Spencer," Hotchner was actually smiling now, much too calm and certain, "But I know. It's you and me. It always has been."

Reid shook, unable to com pletely hide his reaction. It was getting too much, he couldn't do this, take this...this wasn't right...it was scaring him, the way Hotchner was looking at him, talking about him...He couldnt do it. He needed to go, get out of here...

He stepped back, pulled towards the door by instinct...

"You helped me, so I will help you." Hotchner's voice, completely sober now, made him stop dead in his tracks.

"Stay and I will tell you what was in those letters. I'll help you build a profile. I'll help you catch him."

xxx

I'm sure that last bit was a little messed up. Sorry if Hotch is OOC but that was to be expected, right? Right. I hope you liked this and are lookign forward to the enxt installment. I don't know when I'll start on it yet -to be honest, it kinda depends on the reception. So, review, please :) Lemme know your thoughts, criticisms, and suggestions! Thanks!


	10. Chapter 10

„I'll help you catch him."

Reid stared at the convicted felon across from him, not knowing what to do or say.

In the mere minutes he'd been here Aaron Hotchner had managed to throw him off track so much that he felt literally dizzy. He could feel his heart beating hard and fast against his rib cage; being in Hotchner's presence still had a frightening effect on him –but right now his state was mostly due to what the man had just said.

He thought Reid was on his side. Somehow, his brain had made up the insane idea that while the team had betrayed him, Reid wouldn't have, that he was with him…And that was why he was going to help him find their killer?

No. Every fiber of his being rebelled against going through with what his mind knew had to be done. He had considered this, after Gideon had mentioned it, playing along with Hotchner's delusions to get information…but now that he was faced with it…

The thought of staying here and pretending to be this man's friend-

No, he couldn't. Not only because it affected him physically. It felt wrong. Yes, Hotchner was a killer, a bad man. But he had also been a victim once…he had lost his family and his life…and maybe one time he had been Reid's friend…or something close to that at least…

No, he couldn't-

"Sit down, Spencer," Hotchner interrupted his thoughts, pointing to a chair that he hadn't noticed was staring in the hallway before, "You're as white as the wall."

He didn't move, even though his legs felt like they were about to give out under him.

No. He needed to leave.

The image of their last victims flashed across his mind. Her crying children, the husband's face when he'd been sent to identify her cut up body…

He took a shaky step towards the cell bars, fixating Hotchner as though he was trying to read an answer to his problems on the man's face.

Hotchner watched him quietly, and it seemed like a hint of empathy briefly flashed over his face. It seemed he nodded ever so slightly, like somehow he knew what Reid was thinking and telling him to do it anyway.

Nonsense…

He had to do it no matter how wrong it felt.

"You will?", Reid finally asked, breathlessly, "Tell me about the letters and help me catch the UnSub?"

Hotchner nodded, still staring at him from though the bars. "Yes. Sit down."

He did. He gave up resisting and made a decision that really wasn't one. Staying . Pretending. For them.

Hotchner smiled. Reid couldn't help but tense. Somehow it felt like a trap had just snapped shut around him. He tried to push the feeling away, then tried to will his fingers to stop shaking as he dug a piece of paper out of his case file.

"Who is he?"

Hotchner leaned against the cell bars, watching him as he fidgeted. For a moment Reid thought he had only joked when he'd said he'd help, but then he actually spoke up.

"I don't know his name. He signed the letters with, 'Your biggest fan.'"

Reid shuddered, disturbed. One monster admiring another's work… "What did he write to you about?"

"He wrote about my kills, how he admired my energy, my commitment to making them suffer."

Reid's eyes followed Hotchner's fingers as they caressed the bars thoughtfully, reminding him of how they'd wrapped around that mans throat…

He quickly looked away.

"It's all about that for him," Hotchner explained, "He wants them to suffer, to feel the pain and horror, for them to look death in the eye…"

Reid sat still, unmoving. He tried to look unaffected but he knew the color hadn't returned to his face. They knew their UnSub was a sadist, they had assumed from the wounds…he had cut them up pre-mortem and kept them from bleeding out…they had felt him cutting them into pieces…

Hotchner had worked similarly. With horror he thought back to the case file, to the newspaper articles the gory details…the UnSub would have been drawn to reading about how Hotchner had kept his victims alive for as long as possible while inflicting the most amount of damage, breaking bones and stabbing without letting them bleed out-

He couldn't help but look into the convict's dark eyes, unable to fathom how someone could do such a thing and then be so calm talking about it…he seemed so calm and collected now, so civil…if he hadn't seen the case files, the security tape, JJ…

He tensed when Hotchner suddenly frowned and he realized it was due to his obvious bad reaction.

Quickly, he tried to pull himself together. The man thought he understood him, he couldn't endanger that by showing how disturbed he was by the murders.

Focus. 

"Did he tell you about all his kills in advance? Did he talk about how he planned them? How he picked his victims?"

"He wrote me about his past ones. Just the highlights of course." Hotchner's gaze became slightly absent.

Reid gulped. "How many?"

"Dozens," he smirked, "I know the BAU has no idea so far. But this must be the most prolific serial killer they've ever seen. It'll take them months to dig up all the remains."

It was frightening how satisfied he looked at that.

Reid dug his nails into his palms, fighting to remain calm, to not let Hotchner obviously disturb him with his behavior.

"Where are they?"

Hotchner shrugged, "Wherever he found them. They never went far. He left them in the desert. They ones he didn't bury, the coyotes got. He thought it was a great strategy. And it is. Brilliant, really. Between desert and highway, most of them would never be found unless someone knew to look."

Reid didn't reply to that, trying to ignore Hotchner's reverent tone.

"Where does he kill them though? He can't do it out there. He must bring them somewhere. A house, a basement…We found the older and the newest remains near the highway. There is only desert all around. He had to have brought his victims somewhere, so no one would see him kill them, so no one would hear them scream…"

"What makes you think they'd scream?" Hotchner interrupted, almost playfully.

Reid stopped, looking at him, unable to hide that he was disturbed. Why would they scream? Was he serious? Being cut up while conscious must be unbearable…

"The profile," he made himself say instead, "You said it yourself…he needs to see them suffer…"

"See, yes."

Reid blinked. He didn't know what Hotchner was trying to say, or why he didn't just say it, or if he was just playing with him after all…

"But…", he tried, "even if he bound and gagged them… He would have needed to bring them somewhere secluded. Somewhere where his equipment is stored, somewhere he knew he wouldn't be disturbed."

Hotchner nodded. "Clearly."

Reid felt his patience crumble. "Did he tell you where?"

Hotchner smirked, "No. But it's obvious if you really think about it."

"Where?"

"Think about it. You're the FBI agent here."

Reid got to his feet again, frustration winning out. This wasn't a game, people's lives were in the balance. "You said you'd help me. Why don't you just tell me?"

Hotchner just smiled, clearly indifferent to his troubles, "I answered your question. What do you say I ask you one now? That seems only fair."

"What?" Reid blinked, confused and frustrated, "Mr. Hotchner, there are people dying out there. If we hurry we might be able to save them. Tell me what you know and-"

"Aaron," Hotchner interrupted, expression darkening ever so slightly, "It's Aaron. I thought I made this abundantly clear before Spencer. I don't care about anyone dying so I am in no rush at all here. I'm willing to help you –but at my own conditions.

Reid tensed, suspicious. "What are you saying?"

"Quid pro quo. I answered your questions. Now you answer one of mine."

xxx

Cliffhanger! please review^^


	11. Chapter 11

I'd like to thank everybody for reading this and giving me Feedback! I'm glad you find the Story interesting! This chapter took a while, I started over a couple of times, but I think it turned out well :) 

\--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

"Quid pro quo," Hotchner said, "I answered your questions. Now you answer one of mine."

"About the case?"

There was the faintest trace of a smile on those lips. "No."

Reid couldn't help but tense even further at the gaze that was still fixating him, pinning him like a moth. No, of course not about the case...that was the catch wasn't it...?

Damnit, he should have known it wouldn't be as easy as just getting answers out of this man no matter what he said. No, of course Hotchner didn't want to just help him no matter what he claimed. But he wasn't here to be played games with by a bored serial killer, and Hotchner need to know that, needed to know where the lines were drawn...unrelated to how little Reid wanted to answer any of the man's questions.

For along moment he didn't know what to say, not when his agenda was to appease the man but everything in him was screaming at him to 'run' from this situation that was just getting crazier and scarier by the second.

"Why?" he finally managed, just barely keeping his voice and expression neutral.

"Does it matter?" Hotchner asked coolly, shrugging, "We've already established how badly you want to help those people. All I want is a little conversation. Is that too much of a bargain?"

He arched an eyebrow, still eerily calm, and then he smiled like he already knew the answer.

Reid swallowed hard, feeling his chest clenching at the way the other man looked so sure, almost smug. Damn...

He hated it but it was true; he would have agreed to a lot more, tried to make a lot of things happen for Hotchner if only he cooperated, lines be damned. Things like a bigger cell, or a window. Initially, he had come here expecting to be asked for things like that. It would have been difficult to get through with the warden but he'd been ready to try.

This, answering a simple question should have seemed much easier in comparison.

It didn't of course. Not when it was Aaron Hotchner he had to deal with. The mere thought of getting any closer to this man...even if it were just by answering a possible personal question...

He knew he shouldn't. Not just because he didn't want to personally but because it was a bad move as a profiler. It would be feeding into whatever Hotchner was aiming at with this, giving in and undermining his control. (If he'd ever had any.) None of the others, Gideon or Morgan, would have agreed to a bargain like that. 'But they aren't here, are they? You maneuvered yourself into this all alone.'

And yet. He wouldn't say no even if he wanted to. Couldn't. People's lives were in the balance. He took a deep breath, then looked up, dejected, finding Hotchner still smiling ever so slightly.

"What do you want to know?" he relented.

Hotchner didn't miss a beat. "Does Gideon know you're back here?"

Reid bit his lip. How-?

Darn. He clenched his hands to fists, annoyed with himself for being caught by surprise.

He'd expected personal. He should have expected something provoking with an agenda behind it as well. But the question...he couldn't know, could he? No...it must be a lucky guess...

He became aware of Hotchner watching him closely still, like he was reading the answer form his face. Quickly, he did his best impression of a poker face, squaring his shoulders.

"No."

Hotchner didn't move, obviously waiting. Not buying the tough act.

Reluctantly, knowing he was only drawing out his misery, Reid gave in and added, "He didn't want me to come back after..."

"Hm," Hotchner nodded, seemingly thoughtful, but so quickly that it seemed like he had only waited for that answer. "Didn't want you in the crossfire did he?" He leaned forward, hands resting against the bars as his eyes trailed over Reid, briefly resting on where his scars were hidden. Reid tensed, but forced himself not to move.

"No," Hotchner shook his head slowly, "Not considering you're still fragile after only having woken up from the coma Foyet put you in. It makes sense. Who would be mad enough to send an assault victim with obvious trauma right back into a related situation?" He paused, another flash of something in his eyes when he met Reid's, "Then again, why would he have asked you to come here in the first place?"

The implication was obvious even if the hatred of Gideon wasn't still glimmering in those sinister depths. Reid thought back to Hotchner's violent reaction to Gideon the other day and couldn't help but wonder if he should be relieved that the criminal was apparently only trying to make his mentor look bad out of spite instead of having some other agenda behind his questions.

Probably, he concluded. If that was all that had prompted this question and answer game, he could work with it. He just couldn't let the man's words get to him.

"It wasn't like there were a whole lot of other options." he found himself defending his mentor, though weakly. He knew Hotchner was just playing him against Gideon...unfortunately, he wasn't entirely wrong.

Slowly, Hotchner nodded, a sneer on his face. "Indeed." He snorted derisively. "So he decided to use you, his beloved protegee, like a pawn, your mental stability be damned."

"He-" Reid broke off; briefly angry - at who he didn't know. Gideon for failing him? Hotchner for pointing it out so easily?

He wanted to protest but deep down he felt that Hotchner was right with what he was saying. Gideon had risked his well being for the sake of the case.

He shook his head harshly, snapping himself out of any somber thought before they could poison or weaken his resolve. He couldn't let Hotchner mess with his head. It had been the only option left. There were people dying. He understood.

"Maybe he was hoping it would be different," he formulated carefully, "considering...our history. He couldn't have expected me to react so badly." He hoped that reminding Hotchner of his sympathy for Reid -if that was genuine- would help get the attention off Gideon and eventually back to the case.

Whatever he had expected, he was surprised when Hotchner's expression darkened even further, now taking on an almost feral quality.

"You think?" Long fingers grabbed the bars tightly. "And what exactly did Gideon say about 'our history' that made that seem plausible?"

Reid tensed, made more nervous and uncertain with every word more that came out of Hotchner's mouth.

What?

He'd been referring to the fact that Hotchner seemed to think he'd been his only ally, something that the man himself had told him. What else? What was Hotchner referring to now? Clearly it was something else. Was there something else Gideon had neglected to tell him?

For a moment he just stood there, conflicted, not knowing what to say or do or think.

It wasn't until he became aware that a side of Hotchner's mouth had moved up, a knowing look in his eyes, that he snapped out of it, immediately angry again. The man was playing him. Had been all along?

He drew back, taking a step from the cell and towards the doors as a clear message. "I'm not here to talk about Gideon. So if you don't-"

"Of course not. Why don't you tell me something else then?" Hotchner interrupted calmly, not letting up. He didn't seem worried in the least that Reid would just leave. He knew he held all the cards. "About the nightmares for example?"

"What-"

Another insufferable, knowing smile. "Profiler, remember? I can see the circles under your eyes from here. You're pale, your clothes are in disarray. You obviously haven't slept. A result of the post traumatic stress you're experiencing, no doubt."

Reid barely stopped himself from taking yet another step away from the bars, anything to easy the feeling that those words were causing in him, the knowledge of how closely, how deeply the man was looking...

"What makes you think it's not simply the case?" he finally bit out, helplessly losing sight of his plan to stay calm again, "Or this?"

Another unfathomable flash of something, some passing emotion. The light smile remained on Hotchner's face but it seemed less authentic suddenly, almost like a mask. For a moment he simply continued looking over Reid in that unnerving way.

Then, "Why would I stress you? You don't remember anything about me, remember?"

More games, more ambiguities. Reid clenched his teeth and hands, now fully losing sight of what he'd been aiming at. For a moment he felt so much righteous anger that he just couldn't stick to his plan of playing the understanding confidant.

"I saw videos. I saw J.J." He wasn't surprised to see the anger he felt reflected on Hotchner's face at the mention of their colleague -he knew he was on the best way to ruining his only shot at getting the convict to cooperate. If he hadn't already.

Hotchner stared at him intensely, eyes roaming over his features. He leaned closer, as close to Reid as the bars would let him.

"You're worried I could do that to your face as well?" he murmured. It was impossible to tell whether his tone was threatening or teasing or...something worse, like...enticed.

Reid shuddered, suddenly feeling like a mouse that was about to be eaten alive by a snake. He didn't dare blink as he stared back into those burning orbs, trying not to react even as he felt the color drain from his cheeks, sudden nausea making his heart send off galloping. For a brief second, it consumed him, that gaze, and it didn't matter that he knew Hotchner was locked up, that he couldn't touch him. He was just there, too close, everywhere...around him, in his head. It was terrifying.

He didn't know if it was the fear he failed to push down, but something in his reaction made the anger bleed out of Hotchner's features. He went back to that eerie calmness, although the disturbing look didn't vanish. He'd let go of his tight grip on the bars, trailing his fingers along them lightly now.

"I wouldn't," he said softly, almost conversationally, "JJ got what she deserved. Everybody thinks she is such an angel, such a saint. Now the outside represents the inside."

He smiled, almost patronizingly when he saw Reid shake his head, too horrified to speak, tears springing to his eyes. "Don't worry, Spencer. You're special. I would treat you as such. Maybe...some day soon, you'll find out."

With that he turned, leaving Spencer to stand frozen in front of his cell while he walked over to the table, casually taking a sip of water like nothing had ever happened, like he hadn't just...

For what felt like an eternity, Spencer couldn't find it in him to move, simply paralyzed. He had no idea how to interpret what had just happened, that look, those words. Or, he did. But it was just too frightening to actually do it.

It was bad enough, witnessing Hotchner turn full sociopath when one was least expecting it. But what he'd said...it made him feel cold to the core. Revenge...he could imagine what Hotchner would do if he ever found out Reid wasn't being honest...if he got the chance.

Special...

If J.J. Looked this bad already...

He found himself praying that he would never have to see the day Hotchner made out out from behind these bars.

\--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Did you like it? Or is Hotch getting too creepy?^^ I tried to add a little suspense this time, too. Oh btw, I like JJ. Just Hotch doesn't. Sorry, JJ. So what do you think so far?


	12. Chapter 12

Me again! I hurried :) Thanks for the Reviews! Sorry I guess to the People who were hoping Reid was going to prove Hotch innocent...he cant. Hotch did what he is accused of. ist Foyet's fault, yes, but law is law. I'm not trying to make Hotch compeltely evil and I hope it does not come off that way, but he is a little unhinged...he is just really mad at the Situation and the team and the world...you know. At least he likes Reid...for now ;)

xxx

Reid stood in front of Aaron Hotchner's cell, so shocked by the turn their conversation had taken that for moment he felt unable to move. Hotchner's disturbing, almost predatory way of interacting with him had reached its pinnacle when he'd calmly told him that he didn't regret disfiguring JJ, just before implying...

"You're special. I'd treat you as such."

Those words reverberating in his mind made him feel cold to the core, horrified. He could only assume that Hotchner was telling him what would happen to him should he ever feel betrayed by him...that it would be much worse...

He had to look away from the cell, from Hotchner, fighting hard to not lose himself in the terrible pictures his mind was producing...the terror that they were dragging up and that had been waiting not far under the surface anyway...

Shadows, fragments of his nightmares flickered before his mental eye, unbidden, and making him shake even worse...Blood, pain, screaming, brutal hands choking him, holding him down...the biting sting of metal...

"Dr. Reid. There's a phone call for you." 

A male voice from above his head snapped Spencer out of his thought, startling him so much he almost jumped. He blinked, breathing in sharply when he found Hotchner had turned back toward the hallway and was glancing towards the still closed door with an expression of utter annoyance. There was no one there. It was then that he realized the voice had come from a speaker in the ceiling.

"Dr. Reid."

There was a certain urgency to that voice now.

Reid turned towards the door, not even hesitating for more than a second. He had never been so glad for a prompting to get out of a room.

"Spencer."

He didn't want to, but something made him turn around at the sound of Hotchner calling his name. The dark haired man was leaning against the bars, his expression calm and certain.

"I'll see you soon." He smiled when Spencer blinked in surprise at the goodbye, "Get some sleep before then."

xxx

Hour 14 in the bullpen was beginning.

Reid stared at the pin board in front of him in silence, a look of utter concentration on his face. He hadn't stopped working in God knew how long.

Honestly, he was still afraid to go to sleep or just have too much time to think...but he wouldn't say that to anyone of course. Just like he hadn't told him about his visit with Aaron Hotchner three days ago. They would be just as worried, if not more, just like the guard at the prison.

The man had watched his interaction with Hotchner over his monitors and grown worried, so he had pretended that there was a phone call for Reid to get him out. Reid hadn't even been able to be annoyed, he was s thankful to have gotten away from Hotchner in that moment.

Hotchner...who had known he wouldn't come back to the cell...like he seemed to know so much that Reid didn't.

He shook his head, trying to focus on his work. He had spent too much time thinking about Aaron Hotchner and his creepy behavior already. It wasn't productive. There was no way of telling what the man knew, or felt, or if he was just playing with him. It had been his mistake to go back to the prison and subject himself to that. It had only upset him even more and not gotten him any farther in the case. No. It wouldn't happen again.

He would have to solve this case using his brain.

If only that were going better...

It was mostly quiet around him, the majority of the other employees having already gone home. Even Morgan and Gideon were gone to somewhere. Reid could not let this go though, not now…they needed a breakthrough so badly.

"Where do you bring them?" he murmured, eyes squinted.

He'd every single angle checked multiple times. There were no empty houses close enough for the UnSub to have brought the victims there quick and undetected…plus they hadn't all been found in the same location.

"How? What am I missing?" he traced the red dots marking the exact spots where the remains had been found in that specific place near the highway.

'Most prolific serial killer ever', Hotchner's words reverberated in his mind. 'Too many bodies buried to count…' 

Reid frowned. They had found a lot of bones in different stages of decomposition in that place but they weren't enough to warrant that statement. They hadn't had all the search results form the lab back when Hotchner had told him so it hadn't made him think then…but now… there were bones from maybe 12 different people at most so why-

Reid's eyes widened. They had looked everywhere on the site. There weren't any more remains. Which meant- if Hotchner had told him the truth, there had to be other dump sites.

Hastily, he searched his pockets for his phone, dialing Garcia's number, "Garcia. Can you check if there were any similar remains found on other locations, across the state?"

He waited impatiently for her answer. "Well, I'm not sure. There have been some findings of severed body parts over the decades….but it was only single occurrences and they are not close to your dump site so I didn't think they were related."

"Can you give me the exact locations?"

He jabbed red pins into the board on the coordinates she gave him, then stood there and took in a sharp breath, his eyes racing from dot to dot. "Garcia, they are all over the state…they're all along the highway."

Of course! Suddenly his heart was racing and he took another sharp breath in excitement. "Garcia! I think I've figured it out! Please, can you try and find more of those incidents but not just in the state but across borders?"

It took an excruciatingly long time for her to find all the information he needed and for him to ram pin after pin into the board. In the end though, he stood in front of his work, wide-eyed and pale.

"I have to call you back," he hung up on her without looking, already dialing Morgan's number.

"Morgan," he gasped as soon as the man answered, "I've got it. We had no idea of the dimensions-"

"Woah, calm down, pretty boy. Tell me what's going on, slowly."

"The killings. They're across stateliness. We didn't think to look. He was smart enough to kill in different states. Garica and I found more of his dump sites. I'm sure if we dig there, well find even more bodies."

"How many?"

He gulped, pale, "43 so far."

The silence on the other end of the line told him Morgan was just as shocked and horrified as he.

"Morgan, that's not all. They are all along the one highway."

"What are you saying?"

Reid clutched the phone tighter, unable to hide all of his agitation, "I think I figured out where he kills his victims. He's mobile. He drives along the highway in a vehicle…and the vehicle is his kill room."

Xxx

The rest of the team was back within the hour, the new lead giving them energy to go over the case for the dozenth time. Figuring out that the UnSub used a vehicle for his kill room had been a major step forward. Now all they needed to do was find out how he managed to get his vicitms into the vehicle, and, more importantly, just when he would be where on his route along the highway.

The furhter analysis of the remains had told them that there were significant differeces in the ages of the body parts found -suggesting that the UnSub had dumped them there over the course of several years.

Reid couldn't stop pondering that fact -mainly because it meant one thing: Aaron Hotchner had given him useful information. He'd made this breakthrough possible. Reid knew what that meant: If he had stayed and not run away becuase of his nerves and doubts, Hotchner would likely have told him more, helped the case more.

He'd been wrong to leave. He'd been doing everything wrong really, he'd let Hotchner play and confuse him, let him scare him off with mere words and looks...

Well, no more. He knew full well his position hadn't changed. Hotchner still held most of the cards here. But maybe...maybe not all of them?

It took hours but eventually he got up the nerve to walk out of the bullpen and into the quieter kitchen. There he took out his cell phone, taking a deep breath before dialing the number of the prison. It didn't take long to reach the warden, but considerably longer to convince the man to let him talk to Hotchner. He eyed his busy teammates as he waited, nervously biting his thumb.

When he finally heard Hotchner's voice it was like a shock to his system, despite the missing visual.

"I was worried I scared you away," the deep, sonorous voice was somewhere between amusement and something darker. Reid should have been used to it by now but he still felt a shiver run down his spine at the sound.

Images of their last encounter flashed across his mind once more and he fought to shake them off, or at least overshadow them with false bravado. If Hotchner insisted on playing mindgames, so could he.

"How is that, Aaron? Did you mean to scare me?"

He expected to hear the man laugh -he'd seemed amused by Reid's attempts at firing back before. All the more surprising was it to hear yet another pause and then, smoothly, so much that it sounded almost genuine, "Of course not, Spencer. That was the farthest thing from my mind."

Like hell, Spencer thought, but kept up the charade while he could. It seemed easier when Hotchner wasn't looking at him. "I thought so."

More silence. He waited, waited...no matter how hard it was.

"Where have yo been then?"

Gotcha.

Whatever the reason, he did seem to have leverage over Hotchner because the man wanted his presence at the prison. He'd given that away too easily before by showing his reluctance to leave as long as people's lives were in the balance. Now though...he hadn't returned to the prsion in three days. Maybe Hotchner wasn't so sure of himself anymore...?

That was what he needed. To shake the man's confidence, but not enough to make him feel like Reid was like the others.

"I was called away and have been working since," Reid lied, as calmly as possible, "We've had a breakthrough in the case. I finally figured it out. He's mobile. He uses a vehicle as his kill room and has been picking victims along the same highway for years."

Silence for a moment. No laughter. He was right. Reid held his breath, forcing himself not to hop from foot to foot in his nervousness. He needed to play this cool. Hotchner could be so useful -but he had to do it right, he couldn't just ask him, couldn't let him know how anxious he was...

"Congratulations," came an answer finally, odd in tone, "See, I knew you'd figure it out."

Reid nodded, swallowing nervously, "With your help...Aaron, I'd like to come down there. To talk some more. If you're still willing, that is."

"I never said I wasn't. Do come visit if you can, Spencer. I'll be here."

xxx

Soo...question? What do you guys think Aaron is thinking? or planning? What do you think he might do? 

And also, I don't know if that came through but I tried to make him be a little nicer to Reid this time so he wouldn't scare him away even more. After all they are supposed the form a bond of some kind^^ 

What do you think? Did you like the openly scary Hotch better? Or was he just the same and just the phone took away some of the creep factor?

Thank you for your answers. I will work with them :)

.


	13. Chapter 13

Hey there :) 

Sorry for this interlude. I reread the story and realized that what Reid realized about the UnSub is something that I said they knew already in the first chapter. :S That's what happens when you take forever to write a story. Sorry, if anyone was bothered. So I just redid Chapter 2 to fix that.

Just so no one is confused now: They knew before that there were vicitms dumped on 1-2 sites in the Nevada desert over the course of several years. Not much else. The fact that there are a lot more sites along the Highway, across statelines, and that the vehicle is the kill room is new. 

Hopefully that wasnt too confusing :S

Sorry again!


	14. Chapter 14

Hey there! So sorry this took so long again. I really was stuck. At least the plot problem is cleared up now. I think I edited the previous chapter to explain that. Hopefully everybody's happy now. As to whether this will be slash: I want to say yes...might be a while till I get to anything obvious though. Until then I hope you'll be satisfied reading between the lines ;)

\--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

It took forever until he could get away from the office.

Well, maybe he could have gotten away sooner...if he hadn't still been fighting with himself, sick and overanxious at the same time at the thought of going back to the prison.

In the end, Morgan made the decision for him.

"Reid, you need to leave before you fall asleep where you're standing. You've been awake for 36 hours."

Actually it was more like 72, if one didn't count restless catnaps at his desk. He didn't say that to Morgan of course. He merely grabbed his satchel and left the building, heading for his car. The others had either left already or were still working on the case so no one questioned where he was actually going.

He had been worried about actually falling asleep behind the wheel on his way up to the prison, but, unsurprisingly, the closer he got to seeing Aaron Hotchner in person again, the more agitated and nervous he felt. Talking to him on the phone had felt comparatively easy and he thought he'd done well.

Seeing him in person again...he didn't know if it would work out as well.

Reid grimaced. He knew he was overworked and should sleep so he could focus and have his full strength to do this. But obviously that was out of the question given the situation.

He could only make do and hope he didn't screw up again. Last time he had messed up, carried away by his own emotions.

But not again. Hotchner hated JJ and Gideon and the team, so he would constantly say horrible things to do with them. Just like he would keep saying disturbing things about killing and corpses .was. .

He just had to get over that already like any good profiler would -although not any profiler had to deal with his particular case of PTSD- and focus on the two things that mattered.

One, Hotchner was one of the keys to this case.

And two, he saw something in Reid.

It had been so easy to forget because of Hotchner's creepy behavior – but everything he'd said so far made it clear he really wanted him as a friend, an ally. Hotchner wanted to believe Reid was on his side, he'd even accepted his less than friendly behavior towards him and ascribed it to the amnesia.

There had been that one disturbing comment about JJ's face last time, yes, but the more he thought about that the more he was starting to believe that that had really just been Hotchner lashing out in frustration over Reid protecting JJ, taking her side.

It was obvious he did not really think of him like he did of her though -why else would he have wanted him to come back otherwise?

Right. It had been his own fault. He would have to keep better control in the future, keep any too judgmental comments to himself and sit through any subtle taunting and games. He would let the man get it out, make him feel better, get rid of some of his pent up frustrations; it wouldn't be easy but eventually he would go home with the information he needed.

Right.

He parked in front of the prison. It wasn't until he killed the engine and no silence followed that he registered the sound of rain hitting the windshield. He blinked, peering out into the night to find that it was pouring outside. "Crap..."

He glanced at the clock in the dashboard to check the time and cursed a second time. Damn, he hadn't realized it was basically the middle of the night. Would there even be anyone to let him in? Would Hotchner even be awake?

He ran towards the entrance but still got soaked. The guard – the one who had saved him last time- was one of the only ones there. He looked at Reid with a worried expression, first because of his appearance, then when he demanded to see Hotchner.

Reid smiled at him as he passed him, undeterred. Not this time.

Slightly breathless, he finally stood in front of Hotchner's cell again. It was dark in the corridor as well, nothing but the faint sound of electronics and the other inmates shuffling around in their sleep audible. Reid stopped where the chair had stood before, peering into the dark cell. For a moment he was convinced Hotchner was sleeping, disappointment coursing through him.

"When you said you'd visit I didn't think you meant a night call."

Reid tensed, his eyes zeroing in on the figure that slowly began to separate from the darkness. Hotchner stepped towards the bars, looking as fresh and alert as though he hadn't been sleeping at all.

"There was no time during the day," Reid swallowed, reminding himself to be calm and neutral from start to finish this time, "Is this a bad time?"

He heard Hotchner chuckle, wryly, "It's always a good time around here, Spencer."

Spencer immediately wanted to slap himself for saying something so stupid and reminding the convict of his situation.

Surprisingly though, Hotchner's expression was just as easily calm as Spencer wished for his to be. It threw him off -despite his lengthy inner monologue earlier he'd subconsciously still been afraid that Hotchner would continue to be hostile and menacing towards him. Huh...

Well, this was one unexplained mood shift he would happily accept...if it was authentic. He could only hope.

"Sorry, I didn't-"

Hotchner just shook his head though. "It's fine. With the way you look, it seems a miracle you can string two related sentences together. I see you decided that not sleeping wouldn't do you in fast enough and added hypothermia to the mix?"

The humor all but vanished from his dark eyes as they traveled over Spencer's dripping hair and clothes. Spencer blinked in surprise at finding that the man looked displeased if not...concerned?

'One hell of a mood shift, that is.' And he'd been worried the man would threaten his life again... 'What is going on now...?' 

He just so kept himself from shaking his head. Again, this wasn't going how he had expected it to. One would think that the more often he came here the better he'd understand Aaron Hotchner's games. And yet he was still as lost as on the first day.

Luckily, today he remembered to stick to his game plan. Neutral. Friendly and neutral.

"It's raining outside."

Hotchner hummed, nodding slowly, his eyes never losing their focus despite the dark. "Evidently. You should take that off." He nodded towards Reid's drenched coat and scarf, "You'll catch your death in here."

He smiled another smile that didn't reach his eyes when Reid's expression slipped briefly at that. 'There it is. not done with the threats after all, huh? Well, that would have been too much anyway...' Despite the dread that immediately coiled in his gut, the young agent lifted his chin, shrugging off his jacket without blinking. This time he wouldn't be intimidated by mere words anymore. Or looks...

As hard as he tried he couldn't ignore the way Hotchner's eyes remained on him, watching as he pulled off his scarf. Unblinking. Unfathomable. 'God, why wont he just-? Focus!'

His shirt and pants were damp as well but he ignored the chill it gave him. He felt naked and vulnerable enough under the other man's gaze.

'Alright, on with it!'

"I'm fine. I..." he crossed his arms in front of his chest in an attempt to look like he wasn't fidgety, "I came to thank you again for the information you gave me. It was very useful. We're so much closer to finding the killer."

Hotchner's expression cooled instantly, though he still hid any emotions he might have better than Reid ever could have. "Thrilled to hear it," his smile was all teeth now.

"Yes," Reid didn't allow himself to be deterred, "and I was hoping you could help me find out just how the UnsSub picks his victims or if there is a pattern to his kills maybe?"

It was very forward to just ask for help right out, cutting short their 'polite smalltalk', and he could see Hotchner wasn't happy, but he was just too antsy not to. His heart sunk when the convict merely looked at him for a long moment, his expression unreadable in the half-dark -only to then turn around and walk away from the bars.

No!

He stepped towards the cell instinctively, like he could somehow keep the man from leaving the conversation -only to all but jump three feet in the air when Hotchner suddenly reappeared by the bars, holding something in his hands. His heart missed a beat, and he tensed, ready for anything...until Hotchner lifted the object in his hand and slowly held it out in front of him, pushing it threw the bars.

It was a towel.

For a moment Reid was so surprised he couldn't think anything. Why-?

Suspicion flickered up immediately after that and he drew away from the bars, expecting anything to follow...what was this now? A trap? A diversion? A test?

"It's only a towel, Spencer," Hotchner didn't move any closer, one eyebrow raised expectantly as he waited for Reid to move. Merely a brief twitch of the corner of his mouth followed the agent's incredulous expression. "No point in telling you anything if you croak tomorrow anyway. Come now, I don't bite."

Reid balled his hands to fists to keep from reacting. Again. Not. Reassuring. Why did this man keep-? Crap, he didn't even know what Hotchner was doing anymore...

Both men stared at each other for a long moment, Reid torn between instinct yelling at him not to let himself be baited and ego telling him to not back down and prove -pretend- he wasn't afraid.

In the end, he didn't know why he reached for the towel, if it was stupidity or if he actually thought he saw something reassuring in Hotchner's watchful eyes. Maybe they were both the same thing.

He made sure to stay out of range of Hotchner's reach as best as he could, mindful of their first visit days ago. Still, when he finally held the towel in both hands, stepping back into the hall with it, he was honestly surprised he still had his hand.

He was sure his confusion was written all over his face -but if so, Hotchner made not attempt to explain himself, merely watching silently as Reid carefully dried his face and then his hair. He waited until the young agent had finished, the towel now wrapped around his shoulders, only to then suddenly change the subject back to where it had been.

"Now. The pattern." He shrugged, "You already know the pattern."

It took Reid a short moment to catch up with the change in topic but then he forcefully pulled himself together, pushing all nagging questions about Hotchner's motives out of his mind for the sake of the case.

"He travels along the highway and abducts them along the road," he recited, "always in almost the same places. What I don't get is: Why these women? They were all Caucasian, mostly light hair...but that's it. They have nothing else in common, even the ages are all over the place. I don't see what he wants-"

"You don't think it's possible," Hotchner fell in, "that he could just kill randomly...whoever he can get his hands on? Just to satisfy his compulsive desire?"

Reid blinked, taken by surprise,"Is he?"

Hotchner smiled, taking a long moment to shake his head. Reid groaned inwardly but stayed quiet, waiting.

Eventually, Hotchner relented, "He never said anything about how he picks them. I have my theories though. Deep down he is the same as everybody else...he is governed by the same instinctive urges as everybody else. It is his nature to covet...just what he covets is a little different from the norm."

He gazed at Spencer who was listening raptly then, looking like he was internally debating something.

"Now," he finally continued after a short pause, "How do we begin to covet, Spencer? Do we seek out things to covet?"

Reid blinked, again taken aback by the turn in the conversation. It took him a little longer to pull himself together this time, especially trying to convince himself that Hotchner's stare wasn't bordering on creepy once again.

Covet?

„No. We just-"

"No," Hotchner hummed, his smile darkening, "We begin by coveting what we see every day."

His gaze turned absent, like he was lost in thought, dreamlike almost though no less dark. Spencer watched him with growing discomfort; he didn't want to know what the man was thinking about right now...

"What are you saying?" he asked a little too quickly, hoping to break the rebuilding tension.

He wouldn't have needed to. In the time it took for Hotchner to blink and refocus on him, the penny dropped. He gasped, staring with wide eyes.

„He knows her! The original woman...he must have known her! The other victims are surrogates for what he is really coveting." He grew more and more agitated as the pieces started to fall together and he saw Hotchner nod in agreement. „We- this is huge. It means if we could try to find out who the oldest remains belong to...we could find out who in her circle might have-"

But Hotchner interrupted him once again. „Don't bother. She's alive. He wrote to me about her."

„He didn't kill her?" Reid gasped, incredulous.

He was so excited about this new information that he was even forgetting to be angry with Hotchner for holding back these things only to feed him bits and pieces.

„No. It seems he wanted to, was even ready to...but he couldn't."

„Why?"

Hotchner leaned his elbows on the horizontal bars, pausing for a moment like he was thinking the answer over -or maybe, judging by the close look he gave him, about whether or not to tell him. Finally, he answered. „He fell in love with her."

„Love?" Reid interrupted automatically, "No, he's a psychopath, he could never-"

He broke off, startled when suddenly Hotchner's gaze turned sharp and piercing. „You think it's impossible just because he's a killer? That just because of what he has done he wouldn't be able to love someone?"

The carefully constructed mask on the convict's face seemed to shatter for a fraction of a second, revealing pain as well as anger -enough of it to make Reid take a step back before he could reign in his instincts.

"I-"

\--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Ugh...this was longer but I cant edit it all tonight and I wanted to get this bit out. Thanks for putting up with me :)


	15. Chapter 15

Wow, you have no idea how Long it took until I thought this was halfway decent. I started over five times -_- 

Well, anyway the time in prison is coming to an end Folks. I really hope I have most of it wrapped up. Do let me know if you think I missed something essential, yes?

\--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

"I-"

Reid cringed at the sudden anger flaring up in Hotchner's eyes.

Damn, he'd screwed up after all.

He hadn't considered what his words might cause in the convict -that he could possibly take offense to them.

It was so easy to forget things he technically knew about Hotchner sometimes with the way the man acted, considering how coldly he spoke of the people who he had once cared about, how he seemed to wish them pain and death above all else, how he relished in recalling his gruesome crimes.

So easy to forget that he hadn't always been like this, that he hadn't been born a sadistic psychopath.

He'd been pushed into insanity by tragedy, and -no matter how terribly he'd coped- there was no doubt he'd loved his family. His little son. That love was the reason he'd gone off the edge in the first place.

„I'm sorry," Reid was quick to backpedal, "I didn't mean- it's not the same with-"

„I think you did," Hotchner interrupted, face hard, jaw clenched like he was holding back more anger, maybe even...hurt? "It's very easy to see everything just black and white, isn't it? There's good people and then there's monsters who need to be put down, and nothing in between. Gideon would be proud."

He said the last part with a sneer, then turned away from the bars abruptly, like he didn't want to look at Reid anymore.

The young agent cringed, unable to stop himself from actually feeling bad at those words, guilty almost. Shit, he couldn't believe this. How did he do that?

All of the horrible things this man had done, and said, and implied, were clear on his mind...but in that moment he couldn't help but think back to the pain he'd seen in Hotchner's eyes that first day when he'd come here and talked about the man's family, the pain once Hotchner had realized that Reid was no longer the person he had hoped for.

He couldn't help but feel...conflicted. He hated it, because it felt like he was second guessing the team...but it was true. It wasn't all black and white, was it?

No.

Hotchner wasn't just the monster. Maybe it wasn't much- but a part of him was still the man who'd lost everything he loved and cared about and who was now alone in here with that pain.

The memory of Jack Hotchner's little face in his case file flashed across his mind and he suddenly felt the towel around his shoulders like it weighed five times as much.

The towel...

The logical part of his brain knew that the towel as well as this whole situation, Hotchner's whole behavior towards him so far, was a clear indicator that Hotchner did care. He wanted him here, wanted his understanding, his support. It had to be because Reid had been there that night, and because Hotchner had no one else left to care for.

He swallowed. In a way it was heartbreaking to think the man had no one left he could try to give a damn about apart from an ex-colleague.

"I'm sorry," he said again, after a moment of tense silence. He actually meant it this time, didn't just say it for the cause of appeasing the man. "I didn't mean...I know you loved your family. That you were pushed to...this..."

He knew he was being stupid even as he said that. He couldn't afford to feel empathy, to be sidetracked and emotionally influenced like this. It wasn't just unprofessional, it was certainly unhealthy for him at this point, and it was definitely going against his team. He couldn't forget what side he was on.

While he was still scolding himself internally though, Hotchner's expression relaxed ever so slightly at his words, became less angry, maybe even a fraction softer. It made Reid slightly less regretful of his slip up -at least it was in line with what he was supposed to be doing, making Hotchner believe he was on his side.

"You actually sound like you mean it this time," Hotchner stated after a moment. He was watching him closely, like he was trying to detect any deception.

It was obvious he was referring to their first visit when Reid had mentioned the Hotchner's without remembering them. He still didn't know now, but his empathy was authentic.

"I...do." Spencer said quietly, trying not to think too hard about what he was doing. He just followed his gut, said what felt right, and what at the same time appealed to Hotchner. Pretending he was simply playing the man so he wouldn't have to question himself. He couldn't afford that right now, not with Hotchner seeing his every thought somehow.

Whatever was on his face, it made Hotchner's expression light up visibly. His eyes widened slightly, seemingly surprised that Reid was believable this time.

Well, at least his conflict of interest was helping the case then, Reid thought bitterly.

Determined not to linger on his own possible failure, he quickly refocused on just that case. (How had they gotten off track again anyway?)

"I was talking about the UnSub before," he clarified, "He is a psychopath...His kills show that he takes ultimate pleasure from torturing and murdering people. People who have never done anything to him. He does it for the kill, not because he was wronged, or for revenge. He's just out for blood, the trill of the hunt. A textbook case."

He had expected that this answer would please Hotchner, as he seemed to want Reid to see him as a man, not just a monster. Instead though his expression darkened again, anger flaring back up.

"And you think that's not me?" he scoffed, bitter.

He leaned forward, like he wanted to step through the bars confining his aggression, "That just because I love my son, just because I feel, it makes me less of a killer?"

He shook his head, darkness enveloping every part of him now again as he stared Reid down.

"I felt that thrill, too, you know. I still do thinking about what I did. What I would do if I got out of here. I would gladly end anyone in my way to punishing those I really want, I wouldn't bat an eyelash, no matter who it is."

Reid immediately tensed again, his heart rate picking up. He fought to keep his stance, swallowing hard under the man's hard stare.

He had no idea what had just happened, why Hotchner was angry -bordering on homicidal- again. He'd thought the man wanted a distinction between him and the UnSub, even if he hadn't let that shine through during their earlier visits. Then why-?

"So where's the difference?" Hotchner all but hissed, not waiting for him, "What does it matter if he feels love in the way you define it, the way society approves? The result is the same. He's a killer and yet she's alive, so it must be real enough."

Reid just stared at him with a mix of anxiety and confusion, like they were back to day one, square one. It made Hotchner growl in frustration, his hands clenching around the bars. He cursed under his breath, agitated as he paced a few steps, leaving Reid alone with his reeling mind.

What-?

He didn't know what to do to get this right. It seemed he was still missing a piece to the puzzle that was Hotchner, making every attempt to get anywhere productive futile from the start. He didn't know what Hotchner wanted from him! For him to agree that psychopathy and love did not exclude each other? But that was insane!

"How can it be any kind of love...?" He didn't know where he was going when he started to speak, the words pouring from him before he could stop them in his own agitation. "His victims resemble the woman, represent her. They have to, the type is too specific for anything else. He is essentially killing her every time. He may be fixated on her, obsessed...but if he loved her he wouldn't-"

He clenched his hands in frustration at Hotchner's stony gaze, his non-reaction. He was right, damnit!

"You know it," he insisted, truly upset by now, "You were a profiler, too. You know this. Why are you even implying-? You loved your wife, you still do, I believe that. Mostly...definitely...because you didn't pick your victims to be like her. There's a difference, so why do you-?!"

"I don't."

Reid faltered when Hotchner suddenly shook his head, interrupting him. He expected another jab, something to poke holes into his case, but what he got instead left him speechless for a second.

"I don't and didn't love Hayley. I stopped loving her long before she died," Hotchner shrugged impassively, suddenly stone cold in his reply, hard as rock. "Probably around the fifths time she screwed someone else right in our house. I was done with her -so you'd want to say the only reason I didn't kill her was because I didn't even care enough anymore by that time."

Reid just stared at him.

What?

He tried futilely to find room in his already chaotic and overcharged brain for that sudden piece of information. Was that true? Why hadn't anyone bothered to mention that? How the hell was he supposed to keep up in this conversation if he didn't even have proper information? And how in the world had they gotten here? How did it relate to-?

As though he could see the thoughts behind his face -maybe he could- Hotchner smirked ever so briefly, cold humor breaking through his stony facade. "Gideon didn't tell you that, did he?" he mocked, seemingly pleased for some reason, "Are you starting to wonder yet what else he's kept from you?"

Reid could only stare, pale and frozen. His head was spinning. Shit. Shit. Shit. Again, he had completely lost control of this, the conversation, his own emotions-

In what seemed like only five minutes Hotchner had shown so many conflicting facets of himself, started so many different topics, spread his emotions all over the place, overcharging him with all of it- this was worse than when he'd just been plain scary. He didn't know what to deal with first, much less how.

He stepped back, finding hold against the back wall. It didn't help him regain his ground, in any way.

Hotchner stepped closer to the bars again, watching him with a frown. Reid couldn't even tell if it was annoyance over having been interrupted in whatever he was playing at, or if he was displeased with Reid's bad reaction.

He couldn't tell anything...not even ig he was angry, or just plain exhausted from all of this...he just knew he wanted it to stop already.

"I don't know what you want from me," he shook his head, hating the sound of his own voice. He knew he couldn't show doubt, or weakness...but then, didn't they both know that already?Hotchner kept coming up on top, no matter the subject, anyway. He might as well admit it.

Hotchner just kept staring, grading on Reid's already wearing nerves. God-

He went off script again before he knew it -not that there was nothing else he could think of doing anymore, any clear path he could see- choosing the stupidest thing he could think of: open confrontation.

"Nothing you say makes sense," he shook his head, upset, "Why-? Is it even supposed to make sense or are you just doing this to get out all of your boredom and frustration? To get back at the BAU?"

Hotchner's frown deepened for a split second but he remained overall impassive, much too secure in his answer. "Spencer. If I thought of you as BAU, you wouldn't be here." His dark eyes held Reid's conflicted gaze, infuriatingly calm and certain. "Everything I'm telling you is so you'll understand."

"Understand what?" Reid wasn't even trying to keep his voice even anymore, he knew that his state of agitation was more than obvious to Hotchner even if the man didn't seem affected. "Understand what?"

He didn't understand anything.

"You care, you don't care, you're a psychopath and then you aren't, you hate the BAU and yet you've taken the case. You say you'll help me but all you do is-"

"I am helping you, Spencer. I'm helping you see. So you can remember."

"You want me to remember? Then why don't you just tell me?"

"Because," for the first time in minutes there was true emotion in Hotchner's eyes, brief and dark as it was, "It needs to be real. I need you to see all of me."

Reid merely stared, unable o even blink and thus evade the suddenly frighteningly intense gaze directed at him. There was no amusement in Hotchner's eyes now, no way that he was playing. He looked dead serious. This was the truth, Reid realized. The realization closed around his heart like a fist, making his breath catch.

Finally, he was certain of something...and then it was this. Aaron Hotchner did care about something other than revenge. He wanted Reid to understand him, to accept all of his sides, even the bad ones, and still be on his side. He wasn't playing up different characteristics to be confusing. He was conflicted and not hiding it because he wanted Reid to know everything. Know his deepest darkest thoughts and still...accept that.

It was as logical as it was insane.

Reid shook his head absently, unblinking. All this time hed been hung up on that, thinking that Hotchner deliberately making no secret of his dark thoughts and Hotchner wanting Reid back as a friend were two opposing, conflicting theories. But no. He wanted both.

How could Hotchner think he would-? Didn't he see how crazy that was?

"I know it's not easy, especially with how you are. That's why I'm giving you time."

Time. That last word shook Reid out of his current thought process, making room for something else, just as disturbing. Time. What was what this was about? Why he was giving him only tidbits of information at a time? Was Hotchner stalling? Waiting for him to remember something that would make him be on his side again?

Reid gasped, realizing immediately that it made sense. His body went hot and cold at the same time.

"You're not going to help me solve the case. This is all for you."

Hotchner didn't even try to deny it, looked straight at him, his stare more intense than ever. He too, was done hiding his true thoughts, it seemed. He didn't mock, or laugh, or pace. All of his attention was directed at Reid now.

"I've been locked in here for two years with nothing but my memories," he said quietly, eyes blazing, "I lost everything -but not you. You came back. How can I let you leave again?"

The words hung in the darkness between them, their stares unbroken, eyes fixated on each other. Hotchner still full of that frightening intensity, leaning forward as much as he could, while Reid still couldn't move, too shocked from the true extent of what he was faced with.

He felt the color drain out of his face along with the feeling in his hands and legs.

'How can I let you leave?'

It wasn't about the BAU, or revenge. Not really. Not boredom, not frustration. Not just trying to get someone, anyone to talk to to understand. The questions, the looks, the towel...none of that had been casual...He'd planned it all. Every word, every conversation had been aimed at getting him to a specific point.

It was him Hotchner wanted. Specifically.

Obsessed. The man was obsessed. Everything he'd done...he'd done with the agenda of getting him-

Shit.

He hadn't realized it. He had thought that before but he hadn't taken it seriously...

For a long moment he couldn't do anything, too caught up in fighting down the horror that thought invoked in him. It was only slowly that he managed to get the rational part of his brain back working.

'Calm down. He's locked up. He can't do anything, no matter what you do. RUN. It doesn't matter. It doesn't. RUN. It's disturbing and wrong and sad on every fucking level but it's no reason to freak out completely. RUN. It's a chance. You know this, it's a chance!'

Finally, he managed to push aside all emotions somehow. His anger at being played from the start. His fear. The recurring trauma of having the attention of someone so dangerous and evil focused entirely on him for even a second.

Hotchner had just given away his only weak spot with this. He needed to use this now that he knew for sure. He didn't know how he did it, but somehow, he focused on the picture of their last victim in his mind and then put on the best performance of his life. He'd moved so that the shadows were partly covering his face.

"I understand...I do."

Hotchner blinked, looking surprised. He probably had been expecting soemthing else, too.

Reid swallowed, forcing out the words. "I...it's understandable, Aaron. I want to remember...make sense of this all, even if it scares me. I want the truth. And I know you can help me with that. But...I can't not solve the case." He forced himself not to flinch when Hotchner's face fell. "Aaron...I can't sleep, I can't focus on anything else...I have Gideon breathing down my neck..."

He took a deep breath, "Please, you have to help me. I know you can. It's all the same to you anyway, isn't it? What does he matter? After we catch him...I'll come back here, I promise."

"Careful now, Spencer," the other man's eyes narrowed, dark, a warning in them not to lie to him. An obvious sign that they both knew this was his one weak spot. And yet, he was leaning towards the bars, closer, pupils slightly wider...

"No," Reid forced his voice to be more convincing, somehow, less strained with dread, "You know me, right? I'm giving you my word. I'll come back...But you have to keep your promise first. Tell me how to catch him."

With every ounce of willpower he had he held Hotchner's stare, not backing down, all the while fighting to look sincere. His heart was hammering against his rib cage, his stomach rebelling, but he still held it together somehow.

For a long time there was only silence. Tense and leaden. Hotchner was assessing his face and briefly, Reid was sure he saw right through him. His only hope was the poor lighting and the fact that the man wanted to believe him, that that might make his keen perception faulty.

'Please, please, please...'

It seemed like an eternity before Hotchner moved.

"Ketamine." was all he said, quietly.

"What?"

Hotchner seemed to hesitate for a second, reluctant and maybe still distrustful, but then he repeated himself. "You asked how he immobilized them. He's using ketamine."

It took a second for Reid's brain to catch up, to realize he'd actually won - but then his eyes widened, the remaining color draining from his cheeks.

"Ketamine," he whispered, the sudden horrible realization of what they'd missed running through him like electricity.

Ketamine. It made perfect sense. The UnSub needed to see his victims' terror and pain, needed them to feel the torture...with ketamine, he could. The women would be unable to scream or fight, but they would feel everything. They would be watching him as he cut them open...

"Oh god..." he pressed a hand to his mouth, horrified, only to then snap into action, suddenly frantic. "We need to stop him! Before he gets anyone else! Please, you have to tell me how to find him, if you know anything-"

He took those few steps back towards the bars, not caring anymore if Hotchner saw the emotions displayed on his face. He didn't think there was anything but horror over his newest realization in it now anyway. Apparently not, because instead of becoming distrustful and pulling back, Hotchner's eyes even seemed to soften at his reaction.

"One of the letters," he supplied, a little more readily now, "He mentioned a place that he visits. A little diner in a small town along the highway."

He named the town and establishment and Reid's brain stored the information immediately, already racing with how long it would take to get there.

"Do you know when?"

Hotchner nodded. "He said he'd stop there on the 25th."

Reid's heart dropped into his stomach. "That's tomorrow."

Hotchner shook his head.

"No. That's today."

It was all the prompting Reid needed. He spun around on his heels and ran.

xxx

\--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Well. I would really appreciate the feedback. If you can, let me know what exactly you think is going on, that way I'll know if I've given the wrong impression somewhere. I can't help but feel like I keep writing stuff -revelations- that were already in earlier chapters :( 

Either way, upcoming is the big chase for the UnSub, maybe a little breakout and Gideon clearing up some of the confusion. I am debating making a chapter Hotch's POV but I'm afraid that'll ruin the suspense.

Anyway, please do Review. Thanks ever so much.


	16. Chapter 16

He would come back.

Aaron knew it.

He refused to think it had been a mistake to reveal Frank.

It had been a risk, yes. Spencer still wasn't were he needed to be, tense and vary, merely his conscience and the case keeping him in a place that obviously distressed him.

He had started to see though, Aaron was certain of that. The empathy in his eyes had been real this time. The seeds were there. Soon he'd understand.

The mere knowledge of that was like a high, a rush that he had difficulty restraining. Hed be his. Not Gideon's, not the BAU's. All this agonizingly frustrating waiting would not have been for nothing.

He'd known he wasn't wrong about the young agent. Spencer was the only one he had ever been able to count on; he'd been on his side till death. Even the reason for his confusion now was what he had done for him.

He knew he couldn't expect miracles. Spencer had amnesia and PTSD, just saw of Aaron what the tabloids had depicted – that, plus the trauma left by Foyet, as well as the poisonous influence of Gideon...

It was just so hard for him to be patient these days, to not let the darkness inside him cloud the facts with anger and frustration. That voice that reminded him that he'd waited long enough, that Spencer should be his now, now, now, that he needed to act, needed to show him, make him understand-

But no. No, he needed to do this right, needed it to be real.

And it would be.

Spencer would come back, and then he wouldn't be so frustratingly distracted with the case, and hopefully not such a bundle of nerves, overwrought and on edge. He'd listen, he'd see...yes.

Aaron waited.

And waited.

xxxx

A mere ten hours after Reid had left the prison in a rush, Jason Gideon and Derek Morgan entered a little diner in Golconda, Nevada, to meet an average-looking middle aged man who was sitting at one of the tables, drinking a milkshake.

It turned out they had been right about everything regarding the UnSub. The psychopathy, the kill room, the ketamine. All that had been left was to go and apprehend him.

Frank, however, never lost his calm. He smiled while he chatted with Gideon, told them the meaning of his name, and then proceeded to present them with a severed head in a plastic bag and an ultimatum.

By the end of that day they'd barely managed to save a kidnapped police woman and a school bus full of children. They had also been forced to hand over the town crazy, Jane, to Frank after it turned out she was the woman he was fixated on.

They'd had no choice, not after Frank had threatened to leave all of the town's children to die in the desert.

Not that Jane had put up much of a fight.

They were long gone when the day breathed its last breaths, vanished in the wide and dark desert.

The team was forced to return to Quantico with the case still open.

"We're going to catch him eventually," Gideon told the team gravely, but the tiredness in his eyes belied his words.

They all knew what he wouldn't say. Frank had what he wanted and he wouldn't be found until he decided to.

Xxx

He waited for hours.

Hours that felt like days and eventually turned into them.

No one came to see him. There were no calls.

Just the darkness of his cell and the fire in his chest.

It grew with every second he remained alone.

xxx

It was days after Nevada when Gideon first brought it up. He and Reid were alone in the round table room, waiting for the others to file in for their newest case discussion.

"How did you suddenly know where to find him?" he didn't even try to voice it like he wasn't suspicious, his face already mirroring his grief at the expected answer.

Reid sighed, glancing up at his mentor with a mix of guilt and exhaustion. No point in lying, he knew that when he saw Gideon's grave face. He'd avoided that subject so far and in the aftermath of Frank's escape no one had thought of it anymore -but of course it had been very suspicious for them to have virtually nothing, only for Reid to suddenly ring them awake in the middle of the night with every answer they'd hoped for.

"You went back, didn't you?"

Lips pressed tightly together, he nodded. He waited for the anger that would surely follow, the accusations, but all he saw was poorly hidden dread flickering over the other man's face.

"Oh, Spencer," Gideon rubbed his eyes, like this was physically paining him.

"He said he'd solve the case for us, Gideon," Reid defended himself, weakly, "All he wanted was someone to talk to, to understand him, see his side of things."

"We have a case file full of his side of things, Reid. Jesus, what were you thinking? After you saw how he was, I never would have thought you'd have set a foot back in there."

"How could I not go back, if it would save lives?"

"You didn't know that! We both saw how he reacted to you, how fixated he was on...this idea of you. He could have just been trying to get to you without ever giving you anything!"

Gideon broke off when he saw Reid's expression, his eyes widening in realization.

'He was.'

"Tell me." Gideon demanded, now more and more alarmed.

Reid shook his head, shrugging defensively. He wished he could tell Gideon it wasn't a big deal, that he didn't need to be upset- but he couldn't do that honestly. "I...it was hard but I pretended to understand, that I felt pity for him...I think he was trying to get me to remember before, he wanted me to find out on my own, not be told. He thought it would bring me on his side."

He swallowed, leaving out the part where he had actually felt those conflicting emotions, and how they had helped him gain Hotchner's trust, or how they were gnawing at him now. "I eventually realized he was only stalling me...so I...I made use of that...understanding, I promised I'd come back if he told me, but that he had to keep his promise to."

"You deceived him."

Reid nodded, unable to push down the inappropriate shame he felt at that.

Gideon was quiet for a moment. In the end, his face was still dark but oddly calmer instead of more stressed out. "He must know by now. Has he tried to contact you?"

Reid shook his head, trying to hide the shudder that went through him at the thought. "He'll be angry, think I've betrayed him, too. But...I just cant go back, I... the way he talked, and looked at me...it scared me. It was like he was obsessed. It took all I had to stay there for as long as I did."

It hadn't been easy to reach the decision not to go back. Despite knowing how stupid it was he still felt bad, guilty for breaking his word, and leaving Hotchner there. But he just couldn't do it... he wasn't sleeping so disturbed was he by the whole thing. He was seeing Hotchner in his dreams every night now, even more than Foyet, his intense gaze pinned to him, like that of a hunter, his voice in his ear.

'How could I let you go?'

"Spencer," Gideon touched his arm, his expression softening in response to his tormented expression, "He's going to be in there for the rest of his life. And he deserves to be. You did what you had to. You don't owe him anything. Promise me you wont go back."

Reid nodded, slightly relieved even if he didn't feel much less bad about the whole matter.

Right.  
Hotchner was a serial killer. He'd hurt his friends and he'd hurt him too if the circumstances arose, if he ever let go of his illusion. He didn't owe him anything. But he owed it to himself and the team to get better. He owed it to himself to put this whole case, Frank, and Hotchner behind him for good.

Unfortunately, as it turned out, neither man would let himself be put in the past quite that easily.

Xxx

It took a couple of weeks. They worked new cases, slowly getting over the whole I-80 Killer debacle.

The others were still overly worried and protective of Reid but even that was getting better the less pale and distressed he looked.

Reid was aware that Hotchner had been trying to contact him but he was glad that Gideon had so far intercepted everything just as subtly as effectively. He could just imagine what his former colleague had to say to him. Probably something about how JJ would look like a pageant queen compared to him if Hotchner ever got a hold of him.

Most of the time he pushed every thought in that direction as far out of his mind as possible.

Until he couldn't anymore.

Frank was the first to return to their lives, and when he did it was with a bang.

Gideon was on his way to a date with his girlfriend Sarah when he saw him from across the street, at first thinking him an illusion. He changed his mind when seconds later he got a call that would shake the foundations of his life forever.

The BAU was on high alert immediately after Gideon called them in a panic, racing to his apartment, but it was too late. Frank was already gone, leaving behind the still warm corpse of the woman Gideon loved and a message. Jane had left him and he wanted her back. He would kill until he did.

They didn't have Jane. All they had was a frantic Gideon, close to a breakdown, and the horrible knowledge that Frank would go on killing everyone who was important to the profiler until his demands were met.

Within the shortest amount of time, a young woman, Garner's daughter, was dead, sliced open with a rib in her hand just like Sarah had been, and a little girl, Tracy Belle was missing. Frank called Gideon again then, letting him know he had 48 hours to save her.

Xxx

Aaron Hotchner almost did not react when his guard informed him that he had a phone call from outside.

He'd been sitting in his cell, so stoic and absent that the guards frequently came to check on him now, to see if he was still alive. They didn't go near the cell anymore, not after Hotchner's most recent outburst which had ended rather bloody on both sides. They just ignored the screaming and the curses as well as the pacing and the silence.

"Hurry up, Hotchner. You want the call or not?"

In the end, he did move, did take the call, his face blank and his voice icy as he answered. His facade broke briefly, in pure surprise, at who it was.

"Aaron Hotchner. It's a pleasure to finally get to talk to you in person. Not that I didn't enjoy our letters."

Frank.

"They found you."

It wasn't a question. Frank wouldn't be calling if his identity hadn't been discovered already. Which meant he was either also in police custody now -unlikely- or on the run.

"How did you get away?" he asked calmly.

"Irrelevant. Listen, Aaron, I'm afraid I'm a bit busy at the moment. I'm merely calling to let you know that I have changed my course of action. Jane and I were fine laying low, leaving the BAU alone, but she's gone now and I have every intention of killing a bunch of people until I have her back."

"Why are you telling me and not the BAU?"

"Oh, they know. I just thought you might like to know given your feelings for Jason Gideon. You'll be happy to hear that I am going to destroy him piece by piece...or rather person by person. Every victim he's every saved."

He drew in a sharp breath, "That sounds..."

"Yes. Too bad you can't join in. That would be great fun."

Aaron smiled grimly, eyes flashing. "Who knows, I might."

"Thrilled to hear it. Ta, Aaron."

Aaron hung up, his face still an impenetrable mask as he just stood there for almost a minute. Then slowly he let the phone sink. "I'm ready to go back to my cell."

He let the guards walk him back and lock him away. One last time. Anyone looking on the monitors would not have seen a difference in his stoic, cold demeanor and face. His eyes, shielded by the darkness, had a fire burning in them though.

It spoke of finality.

He'd waited long enough.

It was time.

\--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Aaaand...we're getting there. How is Aaron going to break out? What will he do? What about Frank?

Please Review!


	17. Chapter 17

The nightmares didn't stop.

In fact, they seemed to get worse with every passing day, regardless of Reid's proximity to Aaron Hotchner. He might have fled the prison, but he couldn't escape his dreams.

They had transformed since those first months; now, they not only featured Jack and Hayley Hotchner's horrid final moments, their blood and screams mixing with his own as he was forced to relive how Foyet held him down and stabbed him over and over.

Aaron Hotchner had a much more predominant role in them now. He wasn't just there in the fraction of a moment before Reid woke up; instead his original nightmare had become more and more tangled up with different scenes.

Hotchner's eyes, accompanied by his voice, whispering in his ear and crawling in his skin. Scenes from the prison. How much he'd enjoyed killing and maiming...how much he craved doing it again...

'They've all betrayed me. They deserve to suffer, to die...and you! I trusted you!...How could you betray me?' 

His hands, large and heavy as they wrapped around his throat, squeezing, unrelenting while Spencer struggled and clawed at the man's arms with already bloodied hands until he couldn't catch his breath anymore even to scream, until he thought his heart would just give out with how frantically it was hammering against his ribcage. It never was any use. All he could do was stare up into the darkness in terror, right at the feral glint in Hotchner's eyes, the hunger reflected in them as his grip grew tighter. 'I will have you...either way...'

He woke up screaming in terror every single time, clutching at his throat as he shot up from his sweat soaked bed, half sure he would find Aaron Hotchner still above him, straddling him and choking him in his own home. To find his eyes, burning coals full of dark desires, still staring down at him as he took his revenge.

But he remained alone, left to stare at the gray ceiling until it was time to shower and drag himself to work. The rest of the team had long since stopped saying anything about the dark circles under his yes and his unkempt appearance -they looked much the same. Frank was still wreaking havoc on them, the time between his killings getting shorter and shorter, his taunting calls to Gideon more and more frequent.

He didn't speak to any of them about it; there were more pressing matters, plus he couldn't get over the shame he felt in relation to the whole affair. He didn't want them to know. Not how he was still affected, and not what he had done to solve their case. Thankfully, Gideon never mentioned it -him- anymore either.

Until that one day.

It had been a rough night overall.

He'd tossed and turned in bed, sweat soaked and trembling, caught between his nightly terrors and brief, hazy periods of being half awake.

The third time, he woke up with tear tracks on his cheeks, shouting -someone's... Jack Hotchner's name, 'godpleasenohe'sonlyachildgetawayfromhimpleasepleas e'- and as he blinked through the darkness, his breaths heaving, he was suddenly sure there was someone there in the room, moving in the shadows, watching him...

His heart was already racing, his eyes flitted across the bedroom in a brief burst of anew panic, searching for something, anything, even though rationally he knew there never had been anything, now matter how sure he'd been...

There was only silence, noting but the blood rushing in his ears audible as he stared into the darkness, listened to the quiet apartment. 'Nothing's wrong...they're not here...no one's here...'

He eyes landed on the closet by the wall and he started. The door was halfway open.

Spencer stared at it, suddenly frozen. He was sure he'd closed that door before going to sleep. He always did; it was a habit from his childhood.

'Did I leave it...?' 

His breath held, he got out of bed, his eyes never leaving the closet door as he reached for the gun in the drawer of his night table. 'Don't be an idiot...no ones here...no one is actually out for you. Foyet is dead. Hotchner's in prison and Frank doesn't care about anyone whose not on that stupid list.'

It didn't help much. He tried to calm himself down but the grip on his gun stayed tight as he neared the closet, slowly, unblinkingly staring into the darkness. It seemed to be watching him in turn, alive somehow, glowing, like there were eyes hidden in it... His grip on the gun tightened.

Slowly, he reached out a hand, reached for the door...

He almost jumped out of his skin at the sudden sound of his cell phone ringing breaking the laden silence. Cursing, he whirled around and hurriedly grabbed it.

JJ.

He closed his eyes for a brief second, trying to get his heart rate back under control, before he picked up.

"JJ, what is it?" he moved into the bathroom, flicking on the lights and briefly eyeing his own worn features with disgust, "Frank again?"

The man was beginning to escalate. It had barely been 24 hours since his last kill.

"Spence, I need you to come in right away," JJ's voice was tense, "Something's happened."

xxx

I know that was short. I am still trying to get it all sorted out. Please Review, thanks :)


	18. Chapter 18

When Reid hurried into the round table room, still disheveled from having basically stormed out of his apartment the second JJ had hung up, everybody else was already there.

Their heads turned towards him, their expressions ranging from tense to outright distressed. Morgan and JJ's seemed the worst, although Gideon's wasn't much better.

"Whats happened?" Reid asked anxiously.

He looked at Morgan, and the Unit Chief motioned for him to sit.

"I wanted to wait till all of you were here to tell you. We have a problem."

"Frank?" Gideon's face was grim, the emotion seething underneath poorly hidden. He seemed ready to jump up and run out of the room should he be told they had a lead to the man who was out there murdering everybody he cared about.

But Morgan shook his head. "No, it's not Frank. It's...Hotch. We got a call from the prison this morning. He escaped last night."

Reid's head snapped up, his shocked expression mirrored by Gideon. Garcia gasped, paling visibly. Emily tensed, pressing her lips together tightly.

"What?!" Gideon looked from JJ to Morgan, blanching rapidly, "How?!"

Morgan grimaced, "They said he'd complained about stomach pains, shortly before breaking down in his cells. There was the worry it might be his appendix...so they sent in the resident psychiatrist, who is also a doctor..."

He didn't continue, but his face told the story well enough.

Reid didn't say anything. He just sat in his chair, feeling like he'd been doused with ice water. Hotchner was free...had been free for hours it seemed...

"How many casualties?" He heard Emily's voice as though through cotton.

"They found the doctor around midnight in an abandoned car 5 miles from the prison. Suffice it to say he was dead. No trace of Hotchner."

"So he's out there then?" Garcia's voice was visibly shaking, "No. He can't be, I mean-"

Morgan gave her a suffering look and JJ reached over the table to squeeze the tech's hand.

"That's why we told you to come here right away. We called the second they informed the BAU of his disappearance. Which of course should have been much damn sooner. I guess they thought they'd be able to catch him..." Morgan looked at all of them gravely, "But since they didn't... I don't have to tell you what this could mean. It's likely he'll come looking for revenge. Every one of us who helped put him away needs to be put under surveillance."

They all flinched when Reid jumped up so abruptly that his chair toppled over and crashed to the ground. He was out of the room before it had stopped moving.

Xxx

Reid gripped the edge of the restroom sink so tightly that it felt like his knuckles were going to break. He couldn't let go though...his fingers were shaking too badly. All of him was.

Aaron Hotchner was free. Out there somewhere. Hours since anyone had seen him. He could long be in the city. He'd be looking for the people he blamed for everything. He be looking for his friends.

'I felt that thrill, too, you know. I still do thinking about what I did. What I would do if I got out of here. I would gladly end anyone in my way to punishing those I really want, I wouldn't bat an eyelash, no matter who it is.' 

He'd be looking for him.

'I've been locked in here for two years with nothing but my memories. I lost everything -but not you. You came back. How can I let you leave again?'

Spencer pressed his eyes shut, but was unable to block out the memories that were clutching at his throat, taking away his air. He was suddenly to terrified to move. Those black eyes, burning with mad desire...he was almost sure that if he looked up, in the mirror they be looking back at him. All that gnawing fear that he'd pushed back until now, and that only with the knowledge that Hotchner would stay locked away forever, it had no restrain now.

He lied to the man, sure that he'd be safe from his wrath. And now...now he'd be the first on his list, wouldn't he? The worst betrayal of all.

His mind flashed back to that morning, he tried to stop himself, a last attempt at self protection. But it was no use. He could see himself standing in his dark bedroom, barefoot and shivering. He'd been so sure that there had been someone in his room, a dark figure standing over his bed, then watching him out of the darkness of his closet...

It was too much. He lurched forward and emptied his stomach into the sink.

When JJ came to find him shortly after, he still hadn't been able to stop the shaking that had taken him over.

„Hey, hey, Spence," her hands were soft and warm on his back, „What are you doing?"

He couldn't look at her, at her face, the most vivid reminder of what Hotchner was capable of, of what he would do to any of them.

„We won't be safe until he's caught," he gasped, shaking his head numbly.

He hadn't even been there the first time Hotchner had gone on a killing streak, but he just knew how bad it would be. Not just from the video, not just from his friends' scars...he'd seen it in the man's eyes, in the way he'd paced in his cage like a hungry lion, he'd heard it in his voice.

„It's alright, Spence." He didn't know how JJ could be so calm. Of all people she should be the one having a nervous breakdown right now. But somehow she wasn't. She looked pale and sick, but somehow she was managing to try and console him anyway.

„We'll be safe. We're warned now. Either way...he's not going to go after you. You weren't there when he was arrested."

Reid pressed his eyes shut, unable to answer her for fear his stomach might turn again. He couldn't tell her just how wrong she was.

Xxx

„What's wrong with Reid?"

Morgan looked from the door to Gideon with alarm. He had an arm wrapped around Garcia by now, trying to soothe her while still managing the situation. „He and Emily don't need to worry. They weren't there when we arrested Hotchner. He holds no grudge against him."

Gideon looked up at him, his face more ashed and haunted than ever before. „I'm afraid he does."

"What?"

"He went to see Hotchner...more than once." Gideon pressed his lips into a tight line when he saw Morgan's expression slip at those news, "Appears Hotch took an interest after all...asked him to come back. He was willing to talk to Spencer, and Spencer...he...he saw an opportunity. He got Hotch to trust him, made him believe he was on his side. He got him to reveal Frank."

The rest of the team stared at him, silent and wide eyed, realization slowly dawning on them. No one had questioned where Reid had gotten his information from, but this shocked all of them speechless.

Gideon kept on talking although he visibly had to make himself. It was clear he was only revealing this because the situation no longer allowed for it to remain unknown to them.

"It wasn't easy...he, he promised things in exchange for information, promised he'd go back to see Hotchner...that he'd keep visiting. That was before we caught Frank. Weeks ago."

"Shit," Emily said, voicing the exact feeling of everybody in that single moment.

"Shit," Morgan repeated, the shock of his face quickly morphing into first fear and then anger. "Shit! Gideon, how could you let him go back there?! How could you let him take that risk?!"

Gideon just glared at him defensively, "I didn't know he'd go back there! And if you remember I didn't want him to go there in the first place! You insisted we try!"

Morgans eyes first widened and then narrowed at the accusation. "Yes, well, you know there weren't a whole lot of options," he snapped, "But I would have never cleared him to go back there after what you told me about the first visit. Fuck, how was he even calm enough make Hotch forget that first panic attack? It must have been a full on trigger after Foyet."

"I don't know, Derek. He didn't tell me until it was too late. He managed somehow."

All of them stared in silence for a brief second. It was hard to believe Reid had been able to make Hotchner engage in any way. He'd been a nervous wreck ever since he'd woken from his coma. He barely talked to them...but somehow he'd gotten over his PTSD enough to talk to Aaron Hotchner?

Eventually, Morgan got his bearings back, trying to remain ration despite the unpleaseant news. "Alright," he concluded, "so that means Reid is a as bad off as the rest of us when it comes to Hotchner's revenge."

"No."

Once again, all eyes were locked on Gideon's grim face in confusion.

"No," the oldest profiler shook his head, looking miserable, "that's not all. There's something you need to know. Reid's trauma wasn't the only reason I didn't want him to go see Hotch. Their relationship before...it wasn't entirely...professional."

He seemed to choke on the last word, looking like he had a bad taste in his mouth.

"What are you talking about?"

"I..." Gideon brushed a hand over his mouth, clearly struggling to keep on speaking, "Reid didn't remember and I didn't want to make him worse by telling him...especially since the rest of you didn't know...Hotch, he...he was interested in him, before."

The silence was longer this time. One could have heard a pin drop. It was like they were waiting for someone to tell them this was a joke. Then...

"What?!"

Gideon wasn't looking at any of them, instead staring into the far corner. His suffering expression made it more than clear that he was dead serious. "I don't know when it started...he'd been having marriage trouble for a long time, but a couple of months before Foyet, I became aware that Hotch...was pursuing Reid."

In the end, it was once again Morgan who found his voice first.

"Gideon, are you telling me that the maniac who killed half a dozen people and tried to kill another half dozen just because he thought they failed him as colleagues...that that man was... interested in Reid?"

More dreadful silence. A pained grimace. Worse than any answer could have been.

"You knew that?!" There was not much left now of the calm that Morgan had fought so hard to maintain. "You knew it and you sent him in there anyway!?"

"It was the only weakness we hadn't exploited yet!"

"Exploited?!" Morgan had let go of a frozen Garcia and stepped towards Gideon, seething, "That psycho has been obsessed with killing his friends for over two years! He's told us time and time again! How did you think he would react to being rejected by someone he was- shit!"

Gideon just glared at him out of haunted, regretful eyes.

"If I had known Reid was going back there I would have put a stop to it. I would never have thought that he could keep going back there and not remember...or that Hotch wouldn't tell him. I...Reid said Hotch was trying to get him to remember...it's what he tapped into. He pretended to want to remember their connection-"

"And then he left with the information and never went back. He betrayed him...the worst of all of us. Hotch is going to be furious. He'll do everything to get his hands on Reid."

The heavy silence that fell this time was abruptly interrupted by the sound of a shaky intake of breath from the door.

Four heads snapped around in unison to find Reid and JJ standing in the doorway, both deathly pale and with terror clearly written on their faces.

\--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

And finally we are getting some substance!

Gideon fessed up, how'd you like that? Were you expecting it? How do you think Reid will react to this news? And what is Hotch up to anyway? For more, stay tuned ;)

Please review, thanks!


	19. Chapter 19

Hello there!

Look at me, I am getting some momentum going here! ;)

No, I just wanted to say thank you everybody, thanks for all the feedback you gave me, I'm glad you're enjoying the story. Please keep letting me know your thoughts, it's what's keeping me motivated. Lots of love 3

\--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

xxx

"Spencer! Spencer, wait!"

Reid didn't stop. He kept rushing towards the elevators, away from the bullpen, away from Gideon, from-

"Reid!" He was grabbed by his arm and harshly pulled to a stop. Whipping around, he found Gideon staring at him out of hollowed eyes, guilt and anxiety warring on his features.

He couldn't really register any of it, too preoccupied with how his heart was racing, his stomach still on the verge of turning. He felt numb, and hot, and cold, all at the same time, like he was one more wrong word away from the full on panic attack JJ had averted so narrowly earlier.

"How could you not tell me, Gideon?!"

He hated how his voice was shaking. He wanted so badly to tell himself that it was from anger -he was angry at Gideon, furious. But somehow the emotion was swallowed up, seeming disturbingly insignificant next to all the other ones he was experiencing.

No. No, no, no-

A large part of him still refused to believe that what Gideon had confessed to the team had been the truth. It simply couldn't be. Not because it made his situation so much worse, but because it was just so far out there...

Aaron Hotchner didn't- couldn't-

Something like that was just too insane to even consider.

Except it wasn't. Except it put every interaction he'd had with the man in a new perspective, one that made more sense than anything he'd come up with so far.

Every carefully chosen word, every topic of conversation...the way he'd looked at him from his cell-

Reid shook his head harshly, forcing himself to focus on anything other than the horror that was winning out over everything else he was feeling, steadily getting more and more of a grip on him.

Anger was the only other thing to focus on.

"You knew! Ever since I woke up, when you gave me the case, you knew and you didn't say a word!"

Gideon grimaced, "I was trying to protect you, Spencer. You have to believe me. With how you were, I didn't think you could take the additional stress-"

"What if he had told me?" Reid snapped, interrupting, "You think that it would have been less stressful to find out there? From him?"

The older profiler at least had the decency to look appropriately guilty. Still he tried to defend himself: "But he didn't say anything. I was there. I thought that was it. If I had known you were going back-"

"No!" Reid cut him off. He wouldn't let Gideon make him feel guilty, not now. This wasn't his fault. He hadn't known. How the hell could he have known that?! "The fact is that wasn't your decision to make. Playing with peoples lives, their emotions like that-"

He hated that a small part of him felt bad for Aaron Hotchner at that, even now, for having been deceived like that, and for him having had a part in it.

Gideon might have seen the thought on his face somewhere because his eyes widened in shock. He looked nothing but pained as he took hold of Spencer's arms, shaking his head.

"No, Spencer, no. You can't think of it that way. He doesn't deserve our pity, he's lost the right to us caring about him. He's a murderer. He would butcher us all if he had the chance, no matter how strong the relationship before might have been. This doesn't mean you owe him anything, it just means you're so much more at risk. He wouldn't have spared you, even if you hadn't left him there. He's psychotic. Eventually his mind would have told him you're his enemy, too, just like with the rest of us. You were right to stay away."

Spencer stared at the wall next to them, his eyes burning. Stray thoughts of all sorts were still tumbling through his head, making any objective thought near impossible. He didn't want to be ruled by fear, or anger, or false pity...but the chaos just wouldn't stop, the array of images assaulting his thoughts wouldn't slow...

"W-what..." he almost couldn't bring himself to ask, the words feeling like dry ice as he dragged them up through his throat, but knew he had to with the way Gideon was talking, "What exactly did you mean? What happened...between him and me?"

Just the thought of Hotchner being attracted to anyone but his wife, to a man no less, to himohmygod, was mind boggling, was devastating enough in its consequence. But to think that there might have been more than just the mere attraction... God, how did he have no memory of this at all? How-?"

"Spencer, you have to calm down. I'm sorry I know this is a shock."

That wasn't an answer. Gideon was avoiding answering. Reid's stomach turned into knots completely.

"How did you find out?" What, had he caught them in some dark corridor? Had it been...what? An affair? But no he would have never...a married man...and Gideon had made it sound like it had been one-sided. Oh god, that option didn't make him feel better but worse...

He forced himself to look up at Gideon. His mentor's gaze flickered for a moment before his mouth turned into a tight line. For a moment it seemed like he wouldn't answer yet again, but then finally, his shoulders sagged and he nodded.

"I'd noticed the two of you spending an unusual amount of time together, a couple of month before the Foyet case. It wasn't obvious to anyone who didn't specifically look but...your relationship shifted. You seemed closer. I asked you about it and you said you were trying to help him through a rough time with Hayley. I let it go. Until I became aware he was contacting you outside of work a lot more...going over to your apartment, late night calls...eventually I confronted him and he told me, told about his interest in you. I warned him to stop what he was doing, that it wasn't appropriate. He was your superior, far older...and we both knew with your history you'd easily feel pressured into things that went beyond the usual care of one coworker for another..."

Gideon's gaze was dark now. "He wouldn't have any of it. Wouldn't stop. Over time things just...escalated more and more. I was about to go to Strauss with it when Foyet attacked."

Reid stared at him, frozen. It seemed like all the air had left his lungs. "What do you mean, escalated?" he asked tonelessly.

He only knew Hotchner now, yes, but anything that came to mind with him in connection to the word escalation was definitely more than cringe-worthy.

Gideon just shook his head tiredly, apologetic, "I wasn't there, Spencer. You didn't tell me a whole lot. I can only assume. But I could see..."

He broke off and Reid had to lean against the wall, his legs suddenly feeling like they would buckle. There were black dots dancing in front of his eyes.

He didn't know. He knew so terribly much more than just an hour ago now, and yet he really knew nothing...didn't know what had happened between him and Hotchner, didn't know in just how many ways he had screwed this up- didn't know what the serial killer out there was thinking, planning.

Except, well, the basics, he knew. He was pretty much dead either way. How he would get there might have changed in the details...

He barely felt Gideon's hand on his arm, numb.

"You should get some rest, let this all sink in. You can't work like this."

Reid laughed brokenly, the sound coming out all wrong.

"I can't go home," he told the floor, "He was there last night."

xxx

Morgan and Gideon followed the SWAT team as they stormed into the apartment, weapons drawn and cocked.

Reid entered next, shadowed by Emily. He hadn't even gotten up the energy to protest, just handing over his keys when told to stand back. He doubted he'd have very good aim at the moment.

"Clear!"

"Clear!"

He gave half a thought to how surreal it felt -in a bad way- to hurry through his own hallway the way they did through crime scenes, through the houses of victims. The rest of his mind was focused straight ahead, scanning the apartment, waiting for the shouts, mentally readying himself for what they would find in his rooms.

Hotchner had been there this morning, he was sure of it. It hadn't just been an illusion.

What he didn't know was why he hadn't killed him.

Had the phone call and his hasty departure interrupted him? No, that couldn't have been it...

"Clear! All clear!"

"Over here, look!"

His thoughts were interrupted at the shouts coming from his bed room. Reid followed Emily in with dread coiling in his stomach. He didn't want to know what -or who- lay ahead.


	20. Chapter 20

More :D

Again, thanks so much for your support!

Some People asked if this means Hotch and Reid were together. Well...Hotch certainly seems to believe it -but he's just a couple of sandwiches short of a picknick these days^^ Reid doesn't remember, so until he finds out what he's really in for I'm afraid you'll just have to guess what really happened before Foyet. I'd be very happy to read your speculations on that!

But first, on we go:

\--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Reid walked into his bedroom with his pulse rushing through his ears, everything around him seemingly slowed and muted.

Superficially, the room was just as he'd left it, with clothes lying around and the bed unmade. With the closet door half open...

There were black figures everywhere, swarming around with weapons at the ready. He looked for familiar faces, almost expecting to find Aaron Hotchner among them.

He wasn't there anymore of course. If he had ever been-

Reid would have liked to be convinced otherwise so much, but the dreadful feeling of certainty remained at the bottom of his stomach even now. No one had been found -but none of the other agents had relaxed yet. On the contrary...

His eyes wandered to Morgan and Gideon who were standing by his bedside table. The look on their faces made his stomach drop out completely in apprehension. "Look, over here!"

At first his legs wouldn't move. Too slowly, he finally managed to walk towards them, eyes reluctantly seeking out what they were staring at.

There was a box on the bedside table.

Small and dark and simple. Definitely not his, definitely hadn't been there before.

Morgan looked around for him, the expression in his dark eyes unfathomable as he watched Reid walk up to them before he turned back to the box and reached out to open it.

Time seemed to stop for a fraction of a second. He blinked, for too long, not long enough, for that tiny second just praying, praying-

Then the box was open and Morgan cursed and Gideon turned pale and Reid thought his legs might finally give out...expect he was petrified, unable to move or speak or breathe.

Aaron Hotchner had given him a heart.

An actual heart, bloody, red meat glistening in the light. Clearly fresh.

Freshly cut out of someone's chest.

It was from a human, he could tell even from a distance. A person.

He must have made some sound of distress because Morgan's hand came from somewhere and wrapped around his arm, just above the elbow. Reid didn't sway though; he just stood there, frozen and unblinking, while his mind was in a state of panic...

'You're special...get what they deserve...'

"Reid."

He shook his head, unseeing, trying to shake the horror clouding his thoughts. "I'm fine."

Taking a deep breath, he pulled his arm out of Morgan's grip, forcing himself to look closer. The box wasn't the only thing on the table, not the only object there that didn't belong into his bedroom.

Behind the box stood a tall crystal vase that contained a single rose. Reid stared at it, at the petals in full bloom, silken and perfect and of such a deep red that they almost looked black in the dim lighting.

'-relationship was less than professional...'

'Wonder what else Gideon hasn't told you about?'

'Spencer.'

His surroundings grew fuzzy once more as he stared at the flower, his spinning mind leaving him blind to the worried looks the others were casting him, to their tense voices discussing.

"-no signs of forced entry..."

"-someone swipe this for prints..."

"-whose heart?"

"Chilton, the psychiatrist. Hotchner hated him."

"-giving us a message...-Reid. Reid!"

He blinked, forcing himself to focus on Morgan. "Uh?"

His colleague looked like he felt sick to his stomach as well. Nausea with an underside of furious.

"Reid, I'm sorry but this looks like Gideon was right. A cut out heart sends a pretty clear message."

Reid just nodded numbly. He supposed it did.

"What about the rose?" Emily asked from somewhere behind him. He thought that maybe she sounded hopeful, like giving him a flower would somehow balance out the severed organ.

"A joke?" Morgan shrugged, "A mockery?"

"The heart is clear, yes. But roses, well, red roses stand for love-"

"It's not red." Reid corrected her numbly, "It's black."

He didn't look up although he could feel their stares on him. He could see what she was trying to do -but that didn't change the facts.

"There is no such thing as a natural black rose," he said, "which is why really dark red roses like these are called black roses."

He didn't elaborate on the possible symbolic meanings of black roses even though he could have recited them word by word as well. It was bad enough having them in his mind. The flower could mean a number of things...but, combined with the heart-

"Riiiiiing!"

They all jumped when the sound of a phone ringing interrupted the silence.

It took Reid a tortuously long moment to even realize it was his phone vibrating his his pocket. Then the thought sunk in and the last bit of color drained from his already pale face.

"Spencer..." Gideon moved as though to prevent him from picking up but he shook his head.

As if on autopilot he reached into his pocket and pulled out his cell phone. There was no number on the display. It took two tries for him to successfully hit Accept Call.

"Hello, Spencer."

Hotchner's familiar voice, smooth, and deep, and so close to his ear, made him shudder. He almost dropped the phone, his heart stuttering despite having expected it to be him. It took him three precious seconds to get a grip; on the phone, on his vocal chords.

"...Aaron."

"I assume you've gotten my message by now." The killer's voice was even, amiable almost. Like this was just another one of their odd conversations.

Spencer stared at the heart. He didn't know why he had expected Hotchner to be livid, to scream and curse, to flip the way he had during his first visit. He'd already lashed out, already made his point, hadn't he?

Somehow the calm was worse than anything he could have prepared for.

The memory of the surveillance video came to mind unbidden...Hotchner...so calm... just the way he'd been during their interviews...They'd said when he killed that guard his pulse had never risen above 90.

Red flashed before his eyes, terror clamping down on his throat.

"Aaron, I need to-"

He had no idea what he would have said -he knew there wasn't anything-

Either way, Hotchner interrupted him.

"I made a mistake." There was a darkness there, boiling under the level tone, he knew. Reid pressed his eyes shut for a moment, shuddering as he waited for the inevitable. And sure enough...

"I should have realized you would always be theirs, with him...feeding into all those twisted little lies he came up with to poison your mind. I should have known that I would have to pry you from Gideon's cold, dead hands." Hotchner's voice was no less velvety but ice cold now. "Tell him something for me, will you? Tell him that can be arranged."

Reid shook his head in desperation, feeling like his heart might just give up at at second now. His eyes flickered over his team, his mentor, and the dread in his gut became just too much to take. Because of him, he was this mad because...

"Aaron," he chocked out the name, fighting to sound anything but how he actually felt, "Please, if we could just-"

"Don't worry, Spencer. We'll have all the time in the world after he's dead. Or maybe before. I haven't made up my mind yet."

This time he didn't object when Morgan grabbed his arm to support him. He fought to breathe but couldn't, couldn't speak, almost didn't hear-

"Spencer."

It took too long for him to react, and when he did his voice wasn't hiding anything. "-yes..."

"Duck."

Reid blinked, for a moment thinking he'd misunderstood, utterly puzzled by a word that seemed so unrelated. Until-

A light. Red. About the same height as his eye line, flickering on Morgan's chest like a lightning bug.

For the fraction of a second he just stared at it, his heart missing a whole beat as realization set in.

Then the window behind him shattered, accompanied by a sound like thunder.

\--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Oh right, I meant to apologize for the cliffhangers before but...yeah. ;)

Sooo, I'll leave you with that for now. I won't explain the symbolism of what Hotch left or what he might have been thinking, It'll come up later on in the story but you can of course google it if you feel like it and make up your own mind.

Alright, I'm out. Hope you enjoyed it :)


	21. Chapter 21

\--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Reid heard the glass of the window behind him shatter a mere second after he realized that there was a gun aimed at Morgan's chest.

He didn't think, instinct throwing him into action. He threw himself at Morgan, using all his body weight to throw the significantly heavier man off balance and to the ground.

It all happened in a blur, his heart missing a beat, Morgan shouting out in shock as they crashed to the ground, a bullet slamming into his wall just inches above their heads.

For a frozen moment, they just stared at each other, neither of them blinking -then chaos broke out in the room. Suddenly, the agents around them were shouting and yelling commands, rushing to pull the curtains shut and then get away from the window.

Reid more heard then saw some of them rush out the door, probably to try and find the shooter, but he couldn't really pay attention. That last shocker, along with everything else that had happened that night had been too much finally; he felt like he couldn't move, petrified.

Gideon was shouting above them and Morgan was gripping his arm, snapping out of his trance much quicker than he. Before he knew it, he was dragged back to his feet and to the wall.

"Anyone hurt?! Fuck!"

They were rushing out of the apartment and down the stairs before he got his bearings back, Morgan's grip on him never wavering, while Emily was at his other side, both of them with their guns drawn and looking around frantically fro any threats.

Then they were in the car, speeding off.

By the time Reid found his voice, they were on the highway.

"Where are we going?"

No one answered him. Instead Gideon turned around, looking at him gravely and urgently, "What did he say to you, Spencer?"

Reid swallowed, reluctant to remember the phone conversation he'd just had. "He..had said he should have known that I would be on your side as long as...as long as you live. He said he'd come for you and then me, and that he wasn't sure in which order yet. And then he told me to duck, and- I didn't understand at first, until I saw- He almost-"

He couldn't bring himself to look at Morgan, relive the possibility that the man could have easily died just now.

"Hey, kid, it's alright," Morgan gripped his shoulder again, this time squeezing reassuringly, "He didn't get me though, you saved me."

But Reid couldn't find comfort in that. All he saw every time he blinked was the heart in his bedroom and the shattered window...accompanied by the echo of Aaron Hotchner's smooth voice. He looked around the car, at Morgan, Gideon, and Emily, and he had never been so scared for anyone -not that he could remember. The thought that something might happen to them made him sick to his stomach, scaring him even worse than the idea that something might happen to him.

"We need to go somewhere safe," he murmured, "none of you will be safe at their houses alone. We need to stay together."

"We will, Spencer," Gideon reassured him, "I texted JJ just now. We are meeting her and Garcia, and staying together tonight." His expression turned grim as he looked out the window, "We won't make it easy for him."

xxx

Spencer's heart dropped the moment they entered JJ's house.

She was there, along with Garcia, Will, and Henry. None of them looked ready to leave or like they had packed anything.

He started to protest but JJ took his hand reassuringly and pulled him over to the couch to sit. The others moved about the room, sitting or standing close by.

"We've decided to stay here for the night, Spence," JJ explained, "Our house has the most room and it can easily be guarded from outside."

"But-" he began to protest, eyes flashing to his godson in fear. "Henry will be safest here with us. We've secured all the doors and windows, and there is protective detail all around the property. Tonight we'll sleep in shifts and until then, we'll do our best to solve this thing."

It sounded logical and well thought out, but Reid still wanted to protest. To even think that Hotchner might get his hands on Henry or JJ...

No one else seemed to oppose the plan though. In fact it didn't take long for a dynamic to develop in which they formed smaller groups to prepare a meal and arrange for rooms to be prepared. By the afternoon, they were all sitting in the living room, planning and plotting, while Henry played idly, out of earshot but well within sight.

Slowly, Spencer began to feel a little less as though he was on the verge of having a panic attack. The underlying tension and fear remained though and he knew the others felt no different. They all seemed tense and drawn. Frank had already been taking a toll on them and now this...

"Well, it's clear what he wants, isn't it?" Morgan summarized just then, "He won't be stupid enough to attack while we're together like this but he knows that sooner or later we'll have to go back to work. He'll try to pick us off one by one. Maybe in a certain order, or maybe he won't care as long as it gets done."

Gideon nodded grimly, "It's possible he'll take the time and risk to attempt abductions which would give him more time to exact his revenge. That means nobody goes anywhere alone, maybe pairs isn't enough even..."

"You think he is in contact with Frank?"

"It would certainly please, Frank. If Hotch would be up to it, I don't know. Let's hope for our sake that he wouldn't."

They all shuddered slightly at the thought of Hotchner and Frank possibly collaborating. Well, that was a scary thought.

They debated for a while longer, until night fell. By then it had become clear that the shooter wouldn't be reported found anymore. He escaped to try again.

They had a late dinner and retired early, all of them exhausted. Emily and Gideon had received the guest room and Henry's room; the boy was to sleep in his parents' room.

Morgan refused to leave Reid alone though and so they ended up occupying one couch in the living room each. Reid didn't have it in him to protest. He couldn't help but feel like he was being sheltered again -but then, after today...he wasn't sure he'd have slept too well had he been alone in a room.

xxx

Falling asleep wasn't easy. He tossed and turned for a good hour before his body finally came to rest. His mind however, wasn't so lucky.

The dream started out much like it usually did; this time however it was worse, so much worse. Hotchner didn't just strangle him, he pushed him down, onto the ground covered with his family's blood, but not just his families but that of the team also. Their dead eyes were staring at him as Hotchner started ripping, tearing into him...and he couldn't move, couldn't do anything, all while Frank was standing over them, laughing manically...

"Reid, wake up, man!"

He woke with a scream, feeling hands on him and frantically trying to get them off, to get away-

"Reid, it's me, Morgan!"

He blinked, staring up into the half dark to indeed find his unit chief hovering over him, shaking his shoulders. With a sound of relief, he sank back into the couch, drawing in shallow breaths as he tried to calm himself.

On the stairs, he could hear hasty steps and seconds later the team was there, sleep-tousled but armed and ready to fire, eyes livid. "It's fine, guys," Morgan waved them off, looking exhausted but also relieved, "just a dream."

They hesitated only briefly before wandering back upstairs. Reid could feel shame burn in his cheeks as he cast an apologetic look over at JJ. She just smiled at him and then let Will usher her back upstairs.

Once they were all gone, Morgan dropped down on Reid's makeshift bed with a sigh, rubbing his eyes tiredly. "Shit, pretty boy, you scared the living daylight outta me."

Reid sank back against the cushions, pulling the covers over his knees at the same time that he pushed his sweat-slicked hair out of his face. "Sorry,"he mumbled, still embarrassed.

He wished he could laugh the dream off now, but it still seemed to real, even now...like any second something, someone might swoop down on him.

"It's gonna be alright, Reid." He looked up to find Morgan smiling slightly in the dim light. "We're strong as a team. He's not gonna get us. I know you especially have reason to be scared...but he won't get you."

Reid tried his best to smile back, but it ended up as more of a grimace. He wished so much that he could believe that, that it would make him less scared...but he had no control over his dreams.

"Did..." he stopped himself two times before he managed to form a question which had gnawed at him since this morning. "Did...you ever suspect...that anything was going on between me...and him?"

Morgan shook his head, expression turning serious, "If I had I probably would have had the same preservation as Gideon. Hotch wasn't exactly...stable, even long before Foyet. And you're too good for your own good, pretty boy. It could have easily become something it shouldn't have been."

Reid nodded, reveling in the brief swell of warmth he felt at his friend's words. They were mostly overshadowed by dread though. "So...what do you think it was?"

"Honestly?" Morgan asked and Reid nodded. "I think you would have let it slip if there had been anything serious. I'm your best friend, man, and honestly, you're an awful liar...so, no, I think that Hotch might have had an interest, that he might have hoped for more...that maybe he'd started making advances, advances that you did or did not know how to reject...and that the whole thing was interrupted with Foyet. His mind took a break that night, we all know that...and you were there with him, fighting for his family...you weren't there when we arrested him...I think that it is something he conjured up in his mind, an obsession to give himself something to focus on, a beacon of light in the darkness. And now that that fantasy has been crushed-"

"-he wants to crush me."

"It's not gonna happen, Reid. He'll never touch you as long as I'm alive."

Reid swallowed thickly. That was exactly what he was afraid of. Yet, he didn't say anymore, letting Morgan have his confidence, letting him think he'd reassured Reid. They both went back to bed soon after.

Luckily, there weren't any more nightmares after that.

There wasn't a lot of sleep either though.

Xxx

The next day came, bright and sunny, and thankfully without any more interruptions. It was mid morning by the time they all filed out of bed and began gathering for breakfast.

The tense atmosphere from the day before had been lifted a little, aided by the fact that there had been no breech to the houses security reported.

They had made it through the night alright.

It almost gave Reid a little hope, almost made him want to believe in Morgan's words.

He was on the couch, reading to Henry, when the call came.

It was to Gideon's phone this time, once again an unknown caller. Garcia didn't waste any time to try and trace the call this time, hacking away at her computer. The rest of them stood around, breathless, listening.

"Having a party, Jason?" Hotchner's voice sounded colder than when he'd spoken to Reid, barely contained contempt coloring it.

"You can always join us, Aaron," Gideon suggested calmly, "where are you, we'll come pick you up."

Hotchner laughed at that, but it still sounded just as chilling. "I'm sure you'd love that. I'm actually at an old friend's house at the moment -but I'm sure she wouldn't mind you coming over as well."

Gideon hesitated at that, briefly staring at all of them in alarm. Then, a female voice, shaky and terribly familiar came over the speaker phone.

"Please...help-"

\--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

I would apologize for the last cliffhanger but yeah...it's a thing. I can't help it. Forgive me? :)

R&R please  
Really. Please do, so I'll know if anyone is still reading this. Thanks.


	22. Chapter 22

Gideon froze at the sound of that much too familiar voice, turning pale.

Elle.

No.

Dread coiled in his gut, nausea setting in immediately. No. They had been so careful, had made sure all of the team was safe from Hotchner's wrath- but they had forgotten about those who weren't on the team anymore.

"Hotch, don't-" he fought to keep calm but knew he was failing. "Don't do this- Elle-"

Gasps. His eyes flickered over the faces in the room, seeing their expressions turn from tense confusion to a horror mirroring his. Garcia slapped a hand over her mouth, her eyes already glistening with tears. The rest of the team just seemed frozen.

There was a shuffle at the other end of the line, a pained moan, and then it was Aaron Hotchner's voice back in his ear, "I'm surprised you didn't think to warn her, Jason. Too busy spinning your lies to the rest of the team I assume?"

Gideon ground his teeth, his free hand clenching into a fist by his side. "That's what this really is about then. You want to hurt us all, but most of all you want to hurt me. Why don't we quit with the games then? I will meet you and we can sort this out once and for all. But for that, you'll need to let Elle go."

The words just came to him, spurred by fear fro his former colleague, without him having come up with a proper plan yet- that would have to come later-

His thoughts were interrupted when Aaron merely laughed derisively in response to his offer.

"How generous of you," he mocked, "Well, I hate to burst your bubble of egomania but I will get what I want, on my own terms and without your help. I will come for you, Jason, and then you will answer for all you've done."

The utter darkness in his tone made Gideon feel cold inside, a feeling that didn't ease when the tone did, "Right now though, it's not your turn. I merely called to give you a choice. The phone I have is Elle's, so don't bother trying to put a trace on it. We're at her house now but I can move at any time. You won't find us in time to save her -not unless I allow it."

"What do you want?"

"Simple. Pass the phone to Spencer, tell him to talk to me and maybe I'll be distracted enough not to leave Ms Greenaway for dead before you get here."

Gideon's chest constricted, with fear as well as anger and disgust. "You want to talk to him, why not just call him yourself?"

"Ah," Aaron chuckled darkly, "Maybe I want you to be the one to decide. Shouldn't be a tough call really, a little chit chat in exchange for a life. You've asked it of him before without blinking."

Gideon fought down the anger rising in him, instead clenching his fingers again and again, trying to control his responses. He knew well what Hotchner was playing at. He wanted him to push Spencer away even further, to cement the impression that he was using the young agent without regard for his well-being. To pull him further into his web of sick and twisted delusions-

It wouldn't work, he knew. Spencer was smarter that that. Still he couldn't help but feel reluctant to give in to the demand.

"Tick, tock, Jason. Elle won't like it if I get bored."

In the end, it wasn't much of a decision, and the bastard knew it. Though seething inside, Gideon had no choice but to comply.

He found Reid's anxious gaze across the room, and did his best not to let his guilt stop him from what needed to be done.

Spencer was on the very edge of a nervous breakdown after everything, he knew, even if he tried to seem collected. A  
simple conversation should not make things so much worse, not compared to the truly terrible things they had seen yesterday -but he couldn't know for sure. He was risking his protegee, one way or another.

He covered the phone with his hand, speaking in a rush, "Spencer, he says if you'll talk to him he won't kill her, and won't leave the house until we get there. It might be a lie but we can't forfeit the chance. We need to go and try to save Elle; you need to stay here and keep him talking."

He winced internally when he saw Reid pale, a minuscule tremble going through him. There was no protest though, just somber acquiescence.

"He can't stay here alone," JJ hissed, "Will and I will stay."

No one protested. They couldn't make the mistake of leaving one team member alone once again. For all they knew this could be a trap. Anything could be at this point.

xx

It was a matter of seconds, then Gideon, Emily and Morgan were out the door, already alerting units that would follow them to Elle Greenaways house.

Reid was left with JJ and the phone while Will hurried over to Henry to distract him. For a moment he actually debated throwing the phone away -he didn't think he could take this so soon after...after their last conversation had started with a cut out heart and almost ended with a dead friend. He didn't want to think about what game the man was playing now, what he would want to say to him. He didn't want to hear any of it, that much was for sure.

Too bad he didn't have a choice.

With shaking hands he lifted it to his ear, willing his voice to be calm and strong.

"Aaron."

"Hello again, Spencer. So good to hear your voice."

Spencer swallowed, trying hard not to be affected by the man's voice again, but failed, miserably, as usual.

"I'm assuming the team is on its way then?"

"Yes," he tried to listen past the serial killer's satisfied timbre, for any clue as to how Elle was. "They won't be long. You should get out of there before they come too close."

Maybe he would leave the woman alone now that he had him on the phone...

Aaron chuckled, "Your concern is touching. I assume it is for Ms Greenaway's well-being rather than mine."

There was an edge to that last word, one that told Spencer he was moving on dangerous grounds. He closed his eyes for a brief second, trying his best to draw on his every experience working for the BAU. He wasn't a practiced negotiator, and at the moment he barely remembered half of the cases he'd ever worked...but he had to do this right. Too much depended on it.

He knew better than to try and keep acting like he had at the prison, he knew the man would most likely call his bluff and get even angrier. Other than that guideline he had little though- he didn't know if he could or should try to salvage any part of their prior interactions. It was likely Hotchner just wanted his bloody death now, nothing more.

Then again...

"You're the one who made it very clear yesterday that we are not on terms that would justify amicability any longer." He had to test the waters, had to be sure before he would risk saying any more.

He was surprised when Hotchner just laughed.

"You think I meant to shoot Morgan...or you? Why would I do that?" he tsked, probably shaking his head, "No, Spencer, yesterday was a message. I've been trying to send several recently but they don't seem to get through."

"No- they are." It was clear. He wanted revenge and he didn't want it to be easy...or quick. That actually made sense now that he thought about it. He would make them suffer.

"Are they?"

Again, Spencer swallowed hard, his heart rate picking up. He thought of the rose on his bed side table. He knew the man was baiting him, fishing for something, pushing the conversation in a certain direction -but right now he couldn't know for sure what. He just knew what he definitely didn't want it to be.

\--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Okay, so that's that for now. This shoulda been longer, but I always find it hard to write conversations between H and R. I struggle with how much to say, or reveal, or with how their relationship should progress. I know I have big confrontations of several kinds planned, but I'm not sure how fast I should move there, I always think Im leaving out some important "talks". What do the majority of you think? Is Hotch too evil or not evil enough? What should his next course of action be?

Feedback? I'd be ever so thrilled :D


	23. Chapter 23

"You think I meant to shoot Morgan...or you? Why would I do that?" Aaron tsked, probably shaking his head, "No, Spencer, yesterday was a message. I've been trying to send several recently but they don't seem to get through."

"No- they are." It was clear. He wanted revenge and he didn't want it to be easy...or quick. That actually made sense now that he thought about it. He would make them suffer.

"Are they?"

Spencer's heart stuttered.   
His mind flashed back to the rose on his bed side table. Its message could be interpreted in more than one way, just like practically anything Aaron Hotchner had ever said to him. Not one of them was reassuring though.  
Emily had thought the flower was red while Reid had immediately said black. In truth, it had been right on the line, its color up to interpretation.   
Red roses though stood for passion or love, positive things -which was why it hadn’t even occurred to Reid.   
The almost black coloring on the other hand could symbolize tragedy or grief, peril, impending doom, love turning to hatred...and death of course. Literally or in a more figurative way, like something ending and making way for something new in its wake.   
All of which fit how he thought Aaron likely felt about him now. 

He'd realized that the Spencer he thought he'd had back didn't exist anymore or never had, so he had abandoned his goal of pulling him on his side and decided on a new path instead: Killing him along with the others.   
As terrifying as it was, it made sense.   
But, the way Hotchner was asking him now...it seemed like there was more... 

Reid shivered. Knowing what he did about Hotchner's prior 'feelings' for him, it had occurred to him that the mixture of black and red wasn’t accidental. How the two messages could possibly coincide though...he didn't want to think about that... Fearing to be plain murdered was bad enough...he didn’t think he could deal with anything else on top of that.

His hand clenched around the phone as he fought for his calm. “Is that why you wanted to talk to me...to make sure I understand what's coming to me?”   
His voice cracked just slightly on the last words. If Hotchner's intention was to make sure he was scared, he was succeeding. The urge to hang up became overwhelming again for a second but he forced himself to stay still. He knew he had to stall, keep the man talking...  
He'd expected wrath, but Hotchner just chuckled like he had said something funny. “What do you think is coming to you?”   
Tense silence.   
Eventually, Hotchner sighed. “You don’t understand, do you?...even now.... he must have told you by now. He would have had to after he found out what you'd done.”  
His tone finally turned sharp over the last words, barely containing emotion...anger.   
Spencer tensed; nauseous because of the topic but also frightened for Elle. He couldn’t let him get angry with Elle there...   
“I didn't know...” hastily, he grasped the first words that came to mind, “you never said-”   
Another chuckle, darker this time. Bitter. Dangerous. “No, I didn’t...no point in it, was there?”

Spencer closed his eyes, the easy confirmation of Gideon's accusations too much too stomach. It was true...oh god... he was so dead.

“I had to remind myself that you didn’t remember, you know...” Hotchner murmured, low, darker still, seething underneath, “...after I left the prison...you don't know what thoughts you put into my head...I told myself- but I lose my temper so easily these days. Too many resentments.”   
There was a muffled scream in the background, shrill and pained, followed by whimpering. Elle.  
“No,” Reid gasped, horrified, “Don't- I'm sorry! Please- It's my fault!” 

He heard another pained moan, and words spilled from his lips in a desperate attempt to help the woman, distract the killer. “I do- I do understand. I lied to you, I left you there...I shouldn’t have done that, I was just so-”   
His voice broke, breath leaving him. Terrified...appalled...disturbed....scared, scared, scared-  
Elle fell silent. A soft thud.  
“Yes.” Aaron suddenly sounded calm again. Gentle almost, in a disturbing contrast to his anger. “I suppose I had unrealistic expectations...but that doesn't matter anymore now that I'm free. There are no more bars, schedules or regulations to interfere...you don't have to come to me, I'll come to you. I just have some unfinished business first.”

Another groan, then silence. Reid felt himself sink down, thankfully into a chair, shaking badly. Everything suddenly seemed worryingly fuzzy around him...cotton in his ears. It was becoming too much.   
He clutched the phone desperately. 

'Elle, think of Elle. You’re safe now, she isn’t.' In fact, she was too quiet...he had no idea what was happening...if she was bleeding out on her carpet...and the others seemed nowhere near yet...

“Meet me now.” He heard himself as though from far away, his lips moving of his own accord. Aaron was silent for a moment, seemingly surprised.   
“At JJ's house you mean?” he finally asked, a quiet edge to his even tone, “Where the cops are patrolling the yard?”

“I'll shake them,” Reid added hastily, to throw off any suspicion, “You don't need to go through anyone one else...I'll come to you.” 

His heart was racing, nausea almost overwhelming by now but he didn’t take back his words. Hotchner was clearly fixated on him. If he could get him to leave Elle alone this way, if he could get him to forget about the team...it would almost be worth anything.   
He probably would get to him either way in the end.

“Half an hour. Corner of Baker Street. What do you say?”

“That’s lovely to hear, Spencer.”


	24. Chapter 24

"I'll come to you."

Reid was terrified even as he said it -but he couldn't let Elle die. He had to do something.

"That's lovely to hear, Spencer."

He thought he could actually hear Aaron smile. His stomach turned and he had to force himself to keep breathing.

"O-okay..." Resolutely, he pushed down his rising dread, the voices in his head screaming at him that this was a mistake, and resolved himself to sticking with his decision. If she could be saved, he would do it. He would worry about himself once the time was there. "So you'll leave for Baker Street now?"

Aaron chuckled.

"No."

Spencer's heart dropped into his stomach. "Wha- why not? I won't call anyone, I swear...I'll leave the house and come there alone-"

"Do you really think that's what's keeping me away?" Aaron interrupted calmly, "A few locked doors? A mediocre cop and a glorified soccer mom standing guard? You think that if I wanted to I couldn't get to you?"

He stated it with the utmost conviction, like it was as obvious and definite as 2 plus 2 being 4.

It hit Spencer then.

Not only that the man had been toying with him, just to see what he would do -but also that he was right.

"You were in my apartment."

It wasn't a question. Of course not. They'd found the evidence there. But Hotchner had been there not only while Reid was at work, no, he'd been there while he'd slept-

He could have killed him ten times over by now had he really wanted to. Probably even here, with JJ and Will and Henry- he shuddered in horror, realizing how stupid he'd been to think otherwise-

He wasn't safe. None of them were. And he had no leverage.

"What do you want then?" He pressed his eyes shut, willing his hand on the phone to still. What could it be? Was this just to torture them with the knowledge that there was nothing they could do? Was it to make him plead for his friends' lives, beg for forgiveness for lying? He could do that- he would, if it would save anyone.

But Hotchner didn't reply. Not to his question anyway.

"You used to be such a heavy sleeper," he mused instead, "The nightmares really are taking their toll, aren't they?"

Spencer swallowed hard, eyes still pressed shut. The image of Aaron Hotchner standing over his bed and watching him sleep, probably contemplating slitting his throat, was something he could have done without. To have to think about what he could have done...what he might have been planning- it made his skin crawl.

But he couldn't stop listening of course, no matter how nightmarish a picture the man was painting.

He had to keep him talking until the team arrived there...

"Y-you wanted me to tell you about my nightmares...back at the sanatorium." Maybe that would keep him busy. He'd just have to come up with something convincing...

"No need for that," Aaron declined though, "You were quite vocal last night. I think I got the gist of it."

What? Oh no, what did I say-? He didn't remember anything except begging for his, their lives...but what if he had said something else and didn't remember?

"W-what did I say?" he stuttered.

He almost expected Hotchner to laugh but instead the man's voice was surprisingly soft when he answered.

"Enough to remind me not to do something I'd regret...I wish you could simply be more honest with me while awake, Spencer. I wouldn't have to get so...upset over nothing then."

In the background, Elle whimpered weakly.

"O-of course. I can do that." He didn't think about what Hotchner meant, had no time to sort through all his confusing implications. It didn't matter. He just needed to agree, to make him happy enough to stop what he was doing.

"I'm glad to hear that." Shuffling in the background, another whimper.

"You know I really think we're getting somewhere." Aaron said, conversationally, "How did you feel about Jason so heroically throwing you under the bus once again, by the way? And don't give me the he-had-no-choice-speech again, please. You know he started all of this, don't you? If it hadn't been for him I would still be in that cell. He gave me focus...he gave me you."

He gave me you.

Spencer could only bite his lips to keep from answering anything. He wanted to deny that, to protect his mentor, but even if he could have- he couldn't say he didn't at least partially blame Gideon for the part he'd played in this...If he hadn't sent him there-

"Why do you want me to hate him so much?" he asked weakly, "...I understand why you resent him, isn't that en-"

"No." Hotchner's voice was suddenly sharp again, unforgiving, "No, it's not enough, sweetheart. I need you to see. I need you to see him so you can see me. I need you to let go of where you think you belong-"

So I can kill them and still have you on my side.

No. He couldn't mean that. Couldn't possibly think-

"No." The word was out before he could stop himself, before he could chastise himself for his stupidity. He could tell by Hotchner surprised silence he hadn't been expecting this either. Of course not, he should have never- BUT- he couldn't for a second let that man think he would win him over if he killed the people he loved. He couldn't let that be on him. Because of him.

"No one deserves to die," he shook his head resolutely, "No matter what they did. You will never convince me-"

"We all deserve to die, Spencer." Hotchner said, undeterred, suddenly calm and cold again. "Soon enough, you'll see that."

Then there was the sudden, bloodcurdling sound of a knife slicing through tissue, followed by a panicked,wet gurgling sound.

"No-" Spencer gasped into the phone, jolting out of his chair.

But it was too late.

Hotchner let him listen to the lonely sounds of Elle's dying breaths for another few seconds, then he moved from her side and her sounds were drowned out by the faint sound of approaching sirens in the distance.

"One down, six to go. Any thoughts on who should be next, love?"

~They all deserve to die. 

Because in all of the whole human race, 

There are two kinds of men and only two.

There's the one staying put in his proper place 

And the one with his foot in the other one's face.

No, we all deserve to die 

Tell you why, tell you why. 

Because the lives of the wicked should be made brief 

For the rest of us death will be a relief 

We all deserve to die.~

\--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Song from the musical Sweeney Todd. Hotch is kinda like that, just with better hair. There's another song that would fit the story in that Musical, it's called Joanna. It goes, like: "Do they think that walls can hide you? Even now I'm at your window. I am in the dark beside you, buried sweetly in your yellow hair." Creepy. LOL.

Okay so what did you think?

I think now is a good time to ask you who you think should die (and if you don't want anyone to die, who you want to die least- cause I'm afraid someone gots to go, people.)

Thanks for your input!


	25. Chapter 25

When the rest of the team returned, Reid was sitting on JJ's Couch, a cold cup of tea untouched on the table in front of him.

He didn't look up into their faces -didn't want to see confirmation of what he already knew. Didn't want them to rip through the numbness that had taken a hold of him after the almost panic attack following Hotchner's hang up.

All sense of urgency was gone now.

They'd been too late to save Elle. He'd killed her right under their noses.

"No sign of Hotchner?" he asked, forcibly detached.

"He was gone when we arrived. He...drew a message on the wall." Reid shuddered. He didn't have to ask to know with what Hotchner had written. Elle's blood. He could see it before his inner eye, the dark haired killer calmly reaching into her wound and then getting up to leave his mark.

"What did it say?"

"Six."

He nodded. "One down, six to go."

xxx

They stayed in the house, huddled together for safety.

Reid didn't tell them that it was probably futile. That Hotchner could most likely get to them anywhere.

He knew it was the best they could do and he didn't want to upset Henry and Garcia any further.

He didn't say more than he had to about the phone conversation, and luckily the team let him be after hearing the most important details, probably wary of upsetting him further after he had witnessed Elle's death.

24 hours passed in tense apprehension, in waiting for Hotchner to make his next move, to attack again. Nothing happened though, not then, not after 36 hours. Just radio silence.

They didn't know if he was planning something elaborate or if he was just toying with their nerves but cabin fever slowly but surely began to spread among the group. They all knew they couldn't stay in this house forever. Eventually they'd have to go out there again, would have to separate.

The decision was made for them during hour 42 after Elle's death.

It was then that Erin Strauss called them back to Quantico, urgently. Frank Breitkopf had struck again, leaving two women dead and one missing.

They had no choice.

There was no holding Gideon once he'd heard the news and even though he told them it would be alright for them to stay at the house, in the end, no one could defy their nature.

Three hours later they were escorted back to Quantico, heavily guarded and watched from all angles. Merely Will and Henry remained at the house along with the heavy protection detail.

For the rest of them, long and trying hours of case work began as they tried to sort through Frank's newest crimes and figure out his possible next moves. The latest victims had also been known to Gideon, so the vendetta was still personal. They had been left another message with the demand for Jane. The woman of course, remained elusive.

They knew they had to find Frank soon -he was clearly devolving, the number of victims he took climbing exponentially. If only he would make it easy.

Reid actually found himself grateful for the distraction -seeing Gideon this upset, that and the murders, was awful of course -but at least he didn't have to think about anything but geographical profiles while working this case.

He didn't have to think of the sounds of Elle's last breaths in his ear, didn't have to think of Aaron Hotchner sitting over his sleeping form, knife in hand, at night.

It had been becoming less and less bearable how helpless he'd been in that case, unable to do anything to stop the killer.

Here at least, he felt like there was something he could do.

x

It was late at night and they had been up for hours and hours on end, everybody tired to the bone but unrelenting. They had just returned from a meeting with Strauss in the round table room and sat back down to their respective tasks when the call came.

Jane had been spotted.

Gideon and Morgan were up and about in a blink, and at the elevators before Reid, JJ or Prentiss could even offer to come along. Reid sank back into his chair with a sigh, taking in Prentiss' offended stare. It seemed obvious to her as well that the men had just excluded them from going out into the field -even on a low risk assignment- to keep them from danger.

JJ and Garcia weren't field agents of course...but Emily...Reid thought about being angry for being excluded as well for a moment but somehow couldn't bring himself to. He knew they only meant well, only wanted them safe. And since he was a high risk target in their mind...not that they were any less at risk of course-

He told himself to let it go. They would be away from Hotchner for this at least and even if the killer decided to follow them, they had bulletproof cars and an entire SWAT team with them. They'd be fine.

"I'm gonna go see what Penelope is up to," JJ said softly after a moment, patting Emily's arm one last time and giving both of them a sympathetic look. "Alpha males..."

Reid smiled after her, then looked to Emily who was slinking over the their little kitchenette, a frown still very apparent on her face. There was nothing he could really say to her that she didn't know as well as he, so instead he refocused on his work. Gideon and Morgan would be back soon enough for her to get a piece of her mind.

Quickly, he got lost in a particularly complex equation...focusing on it till his eyes burned and the numbers blurred...then he blinked -and found himself slumped over his desk, his work sheet stuck to the side of his face.

He jerked up, blinking rapidly...damnit, had he actually dozed off...? Why hadn't anyone said anything?

When he looked up again, he noticed it had gotten much quieter and darker around him. Irritated, he glanced at his watch -only to find it was well past midnight.

Apparently, most of the BAU employees had finally gone home. Not even Anderson was running around the place anymore. He looked around for his team but found the bullpen empty, devoid of both JJ and Emily, and Morgan and Gideon.

He frowned.

Could they still be out interrogating Jane? Was JJ still with Garcia? Where was Emily?

For a long minute he just sat there, listening into the silence, for voices, footsteps, anything, the uneasy feeling in his stomach growing. Where was everybody?

He got up and walked over to the kitchenette, only to find it empty. Reid swallowed, finding himself growing more tense with every second that passed. What if-? No.

He closed his eyes and made himself take a deep breath. He needed to not be so paranoid. Everything was fine. This was the headquarters of the BAU. No one would get in here. Of course not.

He turned back towards his desk, resolved to call Garcia and find out where she and JJ were at.

It was then that he heard the steps right behind him.

\--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Cliffhanger^^


	26. Chapter 26

I know these are short, please don't hate me. I've just so much to do with Uni at the moment :(

\--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

xxx

Spencer jumped at the sound of steps behind him, heart missing a beat. He spun around, hand flying to the gun at his belt.

Across from him, Emily Prentiss lifted her hands, shocked at his violent reaction, "Jeez, Reid, it's just me. You okay?"

Reid let out a breath, shoulders sagging in relief when he realized it was just his colleague. "Sorry, Prentiss, I thought- where is everybody?"

She shrugged, a small frown appareing on her face when she looked around. "Huh, couldn't say. Gideon and Morgan aren't back yet from their macho-man-ego-trip and I guess JJ's still with Garcia?"

Reid nodded, but somehow still couldn't shake the tense feeling in his chest.

"...What about everyone else?"

"Gone home?" Prentiss was beginning to pick up on his anxiety, also tensing in reaction. "You okay, Reid?"

He bit his lip, then shook his head, embarrassed. "Ya, ya course. I'm fine."

It was safe here. He was simply overwrought...much too tired to think clearly.

"Maybe we should be heading home too soon," Emily suggested, clearly not convinced by his tough act, "I could give you a lift if you want since Morgan isn't back yet."

"Uh, sure, thanks. You go get JJ and Garcia, and I'll let Strauss know."

They walked off in different directions, Reid heading towards the unit chief's office, which Strauss had been occupying all day today while Morgan kept busy with helping them in the bullpen. He wasn't even sure what she was doing in there really, in what ways she was helping that they couldn't but he really hadn't talked to her. Ever since finding out that Aaron Hotchner had escaped she had walked about with an air of badly supressed anxiety around her which would affect him as well -so he mostly steered clear. He was tense enough on his own.

"Ma'am?"

He knocked on the door, only for it to creak open at the touch. There was no answer.

He stepped inside, suddenly feeling anxious again and – his heart stopped at what he saw inside the office.

Erin Strauss was splayed over Morgan's desk, limp and with glassy eyes staring at the ceiling. She was breathing -but it sounded ragged, wet. There were spots of red all over her torso, soaking through her clothes.

He ran over to her, hastily assessing the wounds. Stabbed. Punctured abdomen and lung. She was drowning.

"No, no, no, no, hold on..." With shaking hands he fumbled for his cell phone, ready to call an ambulance. Strauss stared up at him with horror filled eyes, bloodied lips moving without making a sound.

"It'll be alright, just hold on," he muttered, trying to comfort her as he dialed. "Yes, I need an ambulance to Quantico, 3rd floor. A woman. She's been stabbed, she-"

He broke off when Strauss' hand clenched in the fabric of his sleeve, tugging urgently. He focused on her and for the first time realized she wasn't looking at him but over his shoulder. At something. Someone.

Reid spun around when he sensed someone behind him, hand on his weapon again. He found himself staring at Agent Anderson who was standing in the corner of the office.

"Anderson? What-?" he gasped, heart still racing, confused.

He watched Anderson open his mouth -only for dark blood to spill from his lips and rip over his chin.

Reid recoiled, watching in horror as the agent's eyes rolled back in his head and he sagged, all tension leaving his body. A jerk went through his torso and then he crumpled to the floor.

Bringing into view no one else than Aaron Hotchner.

Dressed in a dark suit and looking entirely unruffled except for the blood splattered on his face and on the knife he was still holding, the man straightened and smiled.

x

\--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Uh oh, ya so maybe it's not totally safe there...so what do you think? How did Aaron get in? Where is everyone else? What's going to happen? 

Please review! Thanks!


	27. Chapter 27

Reid spun around when he sensed someone behind him, hand on his weapon again. He found himself staring at Agent Anderson who was standing in the corner of the office.

"Anderson? What-?" 

He watched Anderson open his mouth -only for dark blood to spill from his lips and rip over his chin.

Reid recoiled, watching in horror as the agent's eyes rolled back in his head and he sagged, all tension leaving his body. A jerk went through his torso and then he crumpled to the floor.

Bringing into view no one else than Aaron Hotchner.

Dressed in a dark suit and looking entirely unruffled except for the blood splattered on his face and on the knife he was still holding, the man straightened and smiled.

Reid stood frozen, his body refusing to move even as adrenaline coursed through him, enough to make his head pound.

Aaron Hotchner was here. In the middle of Quantico. Smiling like it was no big thing for him to be just standing there. There had been no alarms...no clue...he must have walked right past him in the bullpen to get here-

Like he had in his bedroom...only this time he'd stayed...

For a terrible, stretched out moment Reid couldn't breathe...couldn't think, couldn't do anything but stare at the blood and the knife and the smile and the corpse, every circuit in his body seemingly halting and threatening to collapse in on themselves under the pressure of sheer horror...

It was like the first time he'd seen Hotchner in prison, only worse. It was all coming back, the forgotten underlying terror, the sick feeling in his stomach, the hairs rising up at the base of his neck. Hotchner was looking at him, staring with that same intensity, that same gleam in his eye. Like some big cat; like all he wanted to do was pounce and sink his teeth into him.

Only this time, there were no bars between them, no cameras, no guards. This time Hotchner looked like he'd stepped right out of one of his nightmares with his blood splattered face and the knife glinting in his hands -and there was nothing between them. Reid felt the scars on his stomach sting, a sickening phantom pain, but he couldn't even lift his hand to touch them, still petrified.

All he could do was stare at the killer in front of him. Like a mouse faced with a snake.

"You can hang up the phone now, Spencer," Hotchner's voice went through him like a knife, deceivingly soft as it was. "They won't make it here in time anyway."

With derision, his dark eyes swept over Anderson's unmoving form to Strauss, whose labored breaths only then began to get through to Reid again. The terrible sound was rattling at him. She was dying, he could hear it.

This was it, he then began to realize. The moment he'd had so many nightmares about. Hotchner's revenge. She was going to die...and so was he.

Finally then, his brain function set back in, along with the much delayed fight or flight instinct.

He stumbled back against the desk, grabbing the gun that was right next to him, clasped loosely in Strauss' other hand. There was a movement in the corner of his eye and he spun back around, heart racing as he aimed the weapon at the escaped killer in front of him.

"Stay where you are!" he demanded, fighting to control his shaking. "Don't come any closer! Police are on their way-"

He broke off when Hotchner just shook his head in mock disappointment, remaining completely calm. "I was really hoping we could skip all that...but fine. How do you think I got up here, Spencer?"

Reid faltered slightly at the question. He hadn't thought. Anything. But- His stomach turned. "The security-"

"Yes. All quite dead, I assure you," Hotchner replied calmly, "And I'll have no problem adding to that list." Spencer blanched, his mind immediately snapping back to who else might have encountered Hotchner on his way up here.

"JJ, Garcia..."

Hotchner shook his head. "They're safe for now, I came here for these two."

His eyes moved from Reid to Strauss who was still rasping away on the desk, clinging to life with desperation. Reid moved in front of her without thinking. Hotchner's eyes narrowed once more in what seemed like annoyance...but then he smiled mildly once more. "There's no point in trying to save her, Spencer. It's already done. You should focus on more important things."

Reid held his ground, refusing to give in to the way that statement made his legs feel weaker by the second. He couldn't run, even if he wanted to...wasn't sure he'd be able to at all even if he could somehow leave Strauss behind.

"I'm not letting you do this," he insisted, stubbornly, and he knew it probably sounded ridiculous given their situation even before Hotchner smirked. "If you try to hurt her...I'll shoot you."

He didn't know what insane reason he had for saying that, knowing that it would very likely become reality and that he doubted he had a chance to win any physical fight if it came to it. But he still had no choice...he had to do it. At least he had the gun. If he could only detain Hotchner until someone came...

"You're not going to shoot me, Spencer." There wasn't the fraction of a doubt in Hotchner's expression; he remained absolutely calm and controlled, amused almost. For a moment, Reid felt anger spike through him and he almost felt compelled to tell the man that, no, he would not be swayed to spare him because of some connection that he thought they had, that he didn't have that kind of hold on him. There was no point in lying anymore either...it was obvious he would die anyway if he didn't do anything.

"Don't be so sure," he said, hands clasping more tightly around the gun. He would shoot...he had to. His finger tightened on the trigger as he tried to ignore the sudden voice in the back of his head protesting, trying to stop him...a voice that sounded suspiciously like a five year old child...

He shook his head to clear it, focusing, only to find Hotchner still unfazed, even at the wrong end of the muzzle.

"I am though," he smiled, "You know why?...Because there aren't any bullets in that gun."

He nodded patiently when Reid's eyes went wide with shock for the second it took him to get a hold of himself. Then he continued, "Erin was passed out drunk when I came in here. I took them out before I woke her so I could talk to her. Then Anderson came back from his break and things escalated a bit."

Reid shook his head, disbelieving, and Hotchner's eyes darkened imperceptively. He stepped forward, closing the distance between them like it was nothing. "Yes, " he insisted, "Think about it...I had to come pretty close to use this knife...don't you think she would have at least tried to shoot me?"

As if to prove a point he held up the bloody knife. Reid flinched back. He was much too close now...only a couple more feet and-

"Don't- stop where you are!"

Hotchner did stop walking but remained otherwise undeterred, still horribly self-assured as he fixated Reid.

"Alright, don't believe me. Go ahead, give it a shot and then we can move on."

He held out his arms as though to give him better aim, muscles coiled but not in apprehension. Not for a possible gun shot but for after.

Reid stood, frozen once more as his mind spun. It wasn't a bluff...now that he thought about it he could feel it; the gun was too light. It was empty.

Cold washed through him at the realization that he was essentially weaponless. Unless...

His eyes flickered from Hotchner's face to the knife all while his hands shook on the gun. Would he have time to throw it away and grab his own gun from his belt and aim before Hotchner could shove that knife between his ribs?

Suddenly Hotchner's stance made all the more sense...this was a standoff. He was just waiting for him to make the first move-

„Reid!"

There was a shout from the bullpen downstairs, and Reid's head snapped around, his attention divided for a millisecond.

The moment he looked away he saw Hotchner move out of the corner of his eye and realized his mistake. Jerking back around he fumbled for the gun and got it out -but before he could lift and aim it, a hard body slammed into him, slamming him against the desk.

Impossibly fast, a strong hand grabbed the wrist of his gun hand, forcing it down against the table and trapping it. Terror spiking through him, Reid jerked and was about to lash out with his other hand to counterattack when he felt Hotchner's right hand against his side- the one still holding the knife- and froze.

"Touché," Hotchner's smile was all teeth.


	28. Chapter 28

Aaron Hotchner was on him before Reid could even think to regret looking away.   
In what seemed like a mere second, the man was suddenly across the room, pinning his gun hand against the desk while the other, the one with the bloody knife still in it, landed against his side.

Reid jerked in shock, but the feeling of the knife kept him from pushing or twisting away. Trapped. Immobile. Dead. He stood frozen, coiled to a spring, his heart racing as he waited for the inevitable pain, the tear through his flesh-  
Waited and-

Nothing happened. 

Reid stared, stunned, as though through a red haze, at Hotchner's face right in front of him...that confident, knowing smile hadn’t faded, only now it was entirely too close. As were those intense black eyes which were boring into his, the gleam in them now impossible to ignore....  
Hotchner looked down at him, reading his expression for a moment, then his fingers around Reid's wrist tightened imperceptibly and he leaned in, close enough that their cheeks were almost touching. Reid flinched back uselessly when it brought them chest to chest; he could feel Hotchner's breath against the side of his face and it left him unable to breathe. Seconds ticked by in which he just waited, waited for the inevitable attack.  
But Hotchner didn’t move.   
He just stood there, looming over him, too close, much too close, breathing in- smelling him?!  
Reid's breath hitched. He could feel the involuntary response to Hotchner's closeness building up inside him, primal instinct screaming at him to get away, to push Hotchner away, even if that movement would surely cost him at least a kidney-

“FREEZE!!!”

Emily’s voice made both their heads snap around, taking over all attention.  
She was standing in the doorway, gun cocked and aimed at Hotchner with a look of grim determination on her face. In the second it took her to scan the room, see Hotchner and Anderson and Strauss and the knife, Reid saw her finger twitching on the trigger -then he sudden felt himself be whirled around, losing contact with the desk. 

Hotchner's body in front of his was suddenly gone but pressed against his back instead. It all happened too fast for him to even gasp. Before he knew it, Hotchner's arm was wrapped around his shoulders, immobilizing him. There was a sound of metal as the knife clattered to the ground at the same moment that Reid felt his gun being wrenched out of his hand.   
Then it was all over, much too still suddenly, and he was staring straight ahead into Emily's suddenly frightened face. The rasping sounds of Erin's breathing had ceased and all he could hear now were Aaron Hotchner's steady, light breaths against his ear. 

“I would say you need to work a little on your timing, Agent Prentiss.” Reid could sense the smile accompanying these words without having to see it.

“Prentiss, go,” he manged to press out, despite the paralyzing terror he felt, “get out of here-”  
Emily’s finger twitched on the trigger once more, her eyes clearly searching for an opening to shoot that wouldn’t mean killing Reid. There wasn’t one though, he knew.

“Better do as he says, Emily,” Hotchner threw in amiably, surprising both of them, “There’s nothing you can do here except make things more...complicated. Now, I have no interest in killing you...as long as you get out of our way. We must really be going.”

Emily didn’t move.

“Prentiss!” Reid fought to not think about Hotchner's words but about his friend's safety instead. If she could get out of here, if he'd let her go...she couldn’t help him anyway, Hotchner could so easily shoot her with him blocking her line of fire.... “Emily, go!”  
Hotchner took a step forward, and Reid stumbled to adjust, reluctantly stepping closer to the door, and closer. Emily backed up slowly, but didn’t lower her gun.

“I’m not letting him take you out of here, Reid,” she promised.

“Back up,” Hotchner told her, unimpressed. His arm tightened around Reid, pulling dangerously close to his neck as he took another step forward. “I said I don’t want to kill you, that doesn’t mean I won't.”

They progressed slowly, step by step, Emily stoic and harshly demanding that Hotchner surrender over and over with little to no effect. Eventually they were at the elevator.   
The end of the road.

“Kindly press the button, if you insist on going down with us, Emily,” Hotchner smiled, and Reid almost gasped in surprise when she actually took one hand of her gun and blindly found the button behind her. What was she doing? They were isolated up here...if they went down into the lobby, onto the street, there would be people in danger-

“No-” he protested, tensing. 

Hotchner's hand squeezed his shoulder in response, pulling him into a body like a brick wall. “Yes.” 

They went down to the first floor with Emily pressed into the far corner of the elevator, gun in both hands again, and them by the door, Reid cringing from the close contact that wouldn’t end.  
Then, the elevator door opened with a bing and Reid immediately knew what Emily had been doing leading them down here. He could hear steps behind them, running through the front doors, then yelling.   
Morgan. Gideon. They were back.   
And Hotchner had his back to them.   
He was trapped. If he turned he would show his back to Emily-

Reid had one half a second to feel victorious, see the beginnings of a smirk on Emily's face-

Then Hotchner's arm around his shoulders vanished and he felt the man spin around impossibly fast. He heard several guns being drawn and cocked as Gideon and Morgan presumably skidded to a halt behind him to be able to aim at Hotchner. 

Reid tried to step forward, making use of his freedom of movement to get out of Emily's line of fire, but Hotchner was still holding his wrist in an inescapable grip. “Stay very still, Spencer,” he said, loud and clear, “If I feel you move to give Emily the shot, I will shoot Morgan. For real this time.”

Reid froze in mid-step. He heard Gideon curse under his breath and knew without having to turn around that Hotchner was aiming at Morgan with deadly precision. In front of him, Emily was staring daggers at him, silently willing him to move to the side so she could take the shot. But he couldn’t risk it, couldn’t risk that Hotchner would feel the movement...

“Just give up, Hotch, you're not getting out of here-”

“Yes, yes, over your dead bodies, so I've come to understand.” God, how could Hotchner be so calm now when he was one twitch from death. “Well, like I said, that could be arranged. Now, move...” He took a steady step forward, waiting for Reid to catch on and follow without losing his footing. “Or I'll go through you.”

They were nearing the door. Morgan and Gideon were being forced back, kept from standing their ground in a way that would have been professional because they were too worried for him, too involved...  
Hotchner would walk right out of here.

Horrified, Reid stared at Emily, trying to silently communicate with her, make her act. Her face twisted like she was in pain, conflicted for a moment. But then Hotchner took another step closer to freedom and determination settled over her eyes. 

Reid had the briefest moment to feel relief before the deafening sound of a gunshot reverberated in the confined space and searing pain ripped through him, blacking out his vision and throwing him to the ground.


End file.
